St Joseph's School for Boys
by Asher Elric
Summary: The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys due to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. (No pairings.)
1. Chapter 1

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings - ?**_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/N – Out of all the episodes (except two where JD's character is in the spot light) I love the ones with the McQuaid brothers. I always wanted more fic with this cover. It's just so much fun to write Tom and Doug being total dicks. So, here is classic 21 Jump Street fic. And not for the last time am I glad I was born in the 80's even though I remember more of the 90's instead. ;) **_

_**Chapter 1 – The McQuaids**_

Tom popped his gum; aggravated. "No."

"Oh come on! it'll be fun!" Doug practically begged.

"You don't have a choice, this cover is the best one for the case," Captain Adam Fuller glared at Tom who sighed and nodded. It is no secret to the gang that Tom hated this particular cover. Doug, however, loved it. Though, it was never the same with Booker. He just didn't do younger brother as well as Tom did.

"Okay, so St. Joseph's School for Boys is a halfway home for runaways," Fuller continued, "some run away just because, but most of the boys have an abusive past. Our victims especially; at least five who've spent some time at the school have a background of being abused by a parental figure. Four of the boys have been found dead no more than five miles away from the school,"

"Are we looking at Serial Killer?" Ioke asked.

"I don't know, they all died in different ways, you and Judy will be investigating from that angle while Tom and Doug go inside the school. Now, remember, you're background is that your father has abused you and you ran away. The social services people found you and put you in the home while your father is being investigated," Fuller directed that last bit at Tom and Doug.

"How much abuse?" Doug asked.

"The usual sort, you two figure it out," Fuller grunted.

Tom gave Doug a sideways glance but said nothing.

"Do we have any suspects?" Judy asked, bringing the topic back to something that didn't traumatize everyone so much.

"Only the director of the school, John Marsh. He has a past like the boys in the school," Fuller tapped the file on the table before everyone who sat around the conference table. "As far as we know he's clean, but I want us to make sure. We'll make contact once a week guys. I'll be your step father,"

"First or second?" Tom asked.

"What?"

"Well, our biological father ran out on us when we were little," Doug started.

"And then our Mom got with some dude," Tom put in.

"So did she leave him and marry you? Do we have other siblings? Do you hit us?" Doug asked.

"I kick your tails when you're bad," Fuller semi-glared. "Saturday's is when parents and relatives get to visit, so be ready with your report when I show up…" and with that he stalked off to his office.

Tom and Doug beat it to their desks to finish whatever paperwork they needed to turn in before starting their Op the next day. Judy and Ioke took the files from the conference table to their desks.

"Let's see if there's more of a link between these boys," Judy said.

"Shouldn't the FBI be involved?" Ioke asked.

"We can't be sure if it's a Serial Killer or if all of these are un-connected," Judy shrugged.

"Well, if it does turn out to be a Serial Killer we're going to have a territory dispute with the FBI when they do show up," Ioke poured him and Judy both a cup of coffee. He put a teaspoon of sugar in hers. Judy took the cup he offered her.

"Yeah, but let's hope we don't have one of those," Judy said and she couldn't help but be slightly worried. This was a bit different from what they normally did. Today, she wouldn't mind going after a juicy collar instead of doing all this research.

Tom and Doug, meanwhile, wee having their own problems.

"How long do we have to keep this cover?" Tom asked. He'd pulled out the long, torn, white cloth he used as a do-rag for Tommy McQuaid. Doug was currently messing up his hair and going through his desk to find various accessories he used for Doug McQuaid.

"I don't know, it could be weeks," Doug shrugged.

"Damn," Tom muttered to himself.

"Well, look at it this way. When the program is eventually shut down, because it will be, all of this will be great practice if we decide to go into another undercover program, like the FBI or the DEA or something," Doug shot Tom a grin.

"Would you really go for that?" Tom asked.

"Well, it'd be more of a Federal level right? We won't have to be teenagers for life," Doug chuckled.

"I was in hell during high school," Tom frowned, "and now I find that my hell repeats on itself,"

"Well, the McQuaids bring some fun to things," Doug replied, "even if you don't like them,"

"I don't like them because I was picked on by people like them," Tom sniffed.

"Yeah, but so have they, I mean, I'm the older brother. My mom cheated on my Dad with your old man, then mine walked out on us. Her and I that is; so then I'm an older brother to you and then they split up and now we have Fuller as our step dad," Doug explained seriously. "This is how they act out,"

"I know," Tom nodded.

"So have some sympathy for them," Doug said and then he took off up stairs where their lockers were located. Tom sighed. Doug did have a point. But he didn't have to like it.

0000

St. Joseph's School for Boys is a big, red brick building. It has twenty windows on the front side with flower boxes where plants wilt because it's been more sunny than rainy this past spring. The yard is basically a parking lot, but to the left side is a small expanse of brown grass where children play. There's a swing set, a merry go round and a pole with a long rope where a flat ball bangs dejectedly.

The McQuaid brother's sit in the back of a black sedan; both boys grumpy and dirty. Tommy sports a black eye while Doug's hands are abraded with bruises from trying to get their step Dad to back off beating up on Tommy. The Social worker, who didn't know them but somehow got assigned to their case, stands a few yards off talking to Mr. John Marsh. He's a tall man and wears jeans with a white button down shirt with a black blazer over that. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back and his nose has a large bump in it where it'd obviously been broken in a fight. He has small, watery blue eyes that don't miss a single detail.

"Tommy, we can't forget ourselves. Whatever we do we talk in code, all right," Doug muttered so that his lips barely moved.

"Sure," Tommy agreed.

They had no more time to discuss their situation before Mr. Marsh had marched over to the car, opened the door of Tommy's side, and ordered them out.

"Get your stuff and come with me," he said gruffly. Tommy did as he was told, as did Doug. They were supposed to have been on the lamb for a few days now. They'd spent two days in Juvenile Hall just to cement their cover with Marsh and his cronies. Apparently, Fuller thought it was pretty important to make them put up wit Doug's phobia of small rooms.

The Social Worker popped the trunk open. He and Tommy grabbed two, beat up duffel bags they'd bought from a thrift shop and spray painted their names and on among other stuff. Solemnly they followed Mr. Marsh into the brick building. It was just as depressing inside as it was out. Tommy glanced back at Doug who shook his head at his younger brother who looked down to the floor and then forwards again as they came to the Admission's and office space of the building.

There were offices for all the teachers, a secretary took up the single desk in the middle of the room and the offices were arranged behind her in a semi circle. To one side stood a bench. Two boys sat there, glaring angrily at anyone and everyone.

"Stacey, the McQuaids are here, you have their paperwork right?" Mr. Marsh asked. He smiled gently at her and she returned the smile. They were close. Doug could tell from the offset.

"Yes sir, here you are," Stacey said and handed over two files.

"We got these in last night, it is an interesting read I had last night," Mr. Marsh said as he flipped through the files. "Tommy, you were arrested for second degree manslaughter, and it say's here Doug that you tend to fight and deal drugs," he gave both boys a hard look.

"I killed that man on self-defense, mister," Tommy felt his right eye begin to twitch. He really hated it when people made assumptions just by looking at his record.

"I aint no two timing drug dealer," Doug glowered, "I'm sophisticated,"

"Do you even know what that means?" Mr. Marsh asked.

"We got straight A's in math at our last school," Tommy informed the man, "I betcha five dollars that you didn't even look at those transcripts," he challenged.

"You're English needs some work, we run a tight ship here, so don't put a toe out of line or you'll find out what Solitary really does to a boy," Mr. Marsh smirked at them.

He snapped his fingers and one of the boys from the bench stood and ran over before he got yelled at. Tommy knew this man could yell if pushed far enough. Tommy wasn't ready to push. Doug cottoned on to his younger brother's mood and subsided himself. Usually they were all for pushing the stupid adults who thought they knew shit. But today was different. Today they were getting a feel for the territory before they tried to take over. They needed to know who the big fish in the pond were and if they could take them on or not.

The boy was smaller than Tommy and wore clothing that looked dirty but smelled of laundry detergent when he got close. He had long blond hair he drew back into a pony-tail at the nape of his neck.

"This is Matt, he'll show you the ropes," Mr. Marsh said. "Dinner is at six, don't be late, and lights off is at nine during school nights and ten-thirty on Saturday's only, Sunday everyone goes to bed at Nine," and that was that. Mr. Marsh took himself, and his pleased expression to have new blood in his school, off to his office.

"Come on, hurry before he comes back out…" Matt muttered out of the side of his mouth. The McQuaids followed curiously. To the right of the door that led into Admission's is a long, winding staircase to the boys Dormitories. There are three, each divided into ages. Tommy and Doug are close enough in age that they aren't split up. Matt takes them past the staircase though.

"So down here is the cafeteria/study hall. We eat and do all of our homework here," Matt said as they entered said hall. It's bland with white walls and sky blue tile that's seen better days. There are three long tables with benches. At the far end opposite the door way is a stage with another long table. "That's where the teacher's eat," Matt explained.

Then he took them down the hall and showed them the classrooms, then the kitchen, the first floor bathroom/shower room. The sky blue tiles persisted in every part of the floor along with dingy white walls. There was nothing on the walls. Everything was either dingy or ruined by someone.

Up stairs is the same story. The dorms are also a long, big hall of sorts. There are rows of bunk beds or single beds. Tommy is glad it's so roomy, at lest Doug wouldn't freak out on him like he'd done so many times before with his panic attacks. Tommy hated to watch Doug go through one of those. It was their step Dad's fault with that one. If he hadn't locked Doug up in the closet he wouldn't be so traumatized by small spaces.

"I picked these two for you guys," Matt said as he brought them to the far side of the room farthest from the door. Two bed were lined up with the head boards against the windows, there were two small lockers standing between the beds and acted like bedside tables. "I figured that you'd want to be close, what with everything you've been through.

"What do you know about us?" Doug asked. Tommy dumped his duffel bag on the bed by the wall. That put Doug between everyone else and Tommy. It was how the always did things.

"What do I need to know?" Matt shrugged, "everyone who comes here have gone through some sort of abuse or another, we're all the same here."

"Do you like it here," Tommy asked. He sat on his bed looking bored all ready.

"No one likes it here, but we get by," Matt sighed and ran a hand through his blond hair. "It's not just Marsh you have to worry about. Harold King has been here the lonest and he's got everyone under his thumbs. If you don't want to be beaten up by him, I suggest you do what he tells you," Matt was about to say more when their little pow-wow was interrupted by none other than Harold King. He blew through the doors of the dorm room like a hurricane coming to land on the coast.

He wore a bright red, leather jacket – the same that Michael Jackson wore in some of his videos – he is tall, and black, and he's got a rough exterior. Tommy and Doug size him up like they always did when it came to their piers. Tommy popped his gum and Doug shifted to stand in front of his younger brother a bit, like always when it came down to it. Doug always protected his younger brother. That didn't mean Tommy couldn't take care of himself though. It just meant that they were close.

"What do we have here?" Harold smirked at the group.

"New blood," Matt replied.

Doug raised an eyebrow. "Thank you Captain Obvious."

"What doe Marsh see in you idiots?" Harold laughed. Now other kids in the dorms, who'd been too shy before to approach, felt it was time to gather around. Tommy and Doug were boxed in. Tommy eyed the group of kids. No one looked angry. No one had their hands in fists. They were curious and not intent on fighting.

Doug noted all of this the same as Tommy, but he also took in Harold. He was bigger than most of the kids here. Not as big as him though.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Just to welcome you home," Harold laughed. He took a few steps towards them. Tommy was right at Doug's back as his older brother and Harold stood practically nose-to nose.

"Listen up good, meatball, I'm in charge around here. I say who goes and does what and when. If I give you an order you do it," he sneered.

Doug glanced back at Tommy, who frowned and Doug could tell Tommy was ready to kick this guy's ass. "Did you hear what he just said?" Doug asked.

"He thinks we McQuaids are pushovers," Tommy muttered back.

Doug turned back to Harold; "We know how to handle assholes like that," he grinned and cracked his knuckles.

The group of kids stepped back as the McQuaid brothers and Harold went toe to toe. Doug took on Harold fully as his younger brother got jumped by a few of Harold's cronies. Thankfully Tommy knew how to fight and strategize at the same time. He knocked one out fully before punching another in the guts and then kneeing him in the balls. Doug held Harold in a chokehold as he watched Tommy fight, and win.

The fight ended as quick as it'd begun. Tommy stood in the middle of a four-man battlefield; the bodies of his opponents prone around his feet. He swiped his hands together before reaching into his pocket for another stick of bubble gum; "Anyone else?" he asked nonchalantly.

A smattering of applause was his only reply.

He grinned at Doug; "I guess we showed our hand a little early, Bro."

"Well, it's not like they gave us a choice now did they…?" Doug shot back. Tommy popped his gum in response. Doug pushed Harold away from him, yet he kept a firm grip on the kids t-shirt. Harold had anger and murder painted all over his face.

"Now listen here buddy," he growled, "We didn't come here to fight, you started it and we finished it. Now, if you know what's good for ya, you'll leave us alone.." and with that Doug pushed Harold away. The kid backed up and puffed up the collar of his jacket. He sneered at them and pointed a finger at Tommy and Doug.

"I'll get you back for this," he promised lamely and then he shot out of the dorm room faster than Tommy and Doug could yell their catch phrase. The kids Tommy had taken out mopped themselves up and ran after their leader.

"Well," Tommy hummed, "that was fun,"

"It's gonna get better," Doug cracked his knuckles.


	2. Chapter 2

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings - ?**_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/N – Out of all the episodes (except two where JD's character is in the spot light) I love the ones with the McQuaid brothers. I always wanted more fic with this cover. It's just so much fun to write Tom and Doug being total dicks. So, here is classic 21 Jump Street fic. And not for the last time am I glad I was born in the 80's even though I remember more of the 90's instead. ;) And on another note; I'm not fond of teenagers, this I blame on my siblings being stupid. So while I know that not all teenagers suck, my attitude about them may become quite apparent. This is weird because I do converse with teens on a regular basis online. And it makes things awkward when I do find out because I'm in my mid twenties. So, I think this reflects teenager's because I'm drawing from experience where my siblings are concerned.**_

_**0000**_

_**Chapter 2 – Fight Fire with Fire**_

_**0000**_

Teenaged boys, Tommy decided, sucked.

They were loud, obnoxious, stank to high heaven, had horrible table manners and did stupid things because they were triple dog dared to do stupid stuff. Tommy also decided that he was an angel as a teenager. His parents never had to worry about where he was or what he was doing. He went bowling on Wednesdays for Christ's sake; and that was with an adult bowling league as well who just liked that they were winning for once and didn't care if they owed their wins to the fifteen year old Tommy Hanson; he had tried to get lucky on Prom Night – which didn't happened because some idiot shot and killed his Dad. That put a bummer in the rest of the school year until he did graduate. And even after that, his Mother didn't have to worry about him doing drugs or drinking under aged. She complained about it.

Oh she loved that he wasn't doing bad stuff; but somehow she expected him to do those things because of the grief he kept inside him over his father. Tommy just decided that playing the saxophone in his bedroom and getting good grades so that he could go to the Police Academy was better than sneaking out of the house late at night, binge drinking and trying to get some girl pregnant.

Doug's child hood, as far as Tommy knew was totally different. He was a rascal and made all sorts of mayhem. How he decided to be a Police Officer was a mystery that Tommy didn't ask about because Doug was so closed off about his family. Tommy could see why they fell into the older brother/younger brother rolls when they took on the McQuaid covers. He was naturally more quiet and subdued than Doug. Well, he had his outbursts. But normally he just didn't care about what students or teachers said about him or Doug; Doug kinda cared, but not enough that they did anything abut it.

That is, until now.

So, there they were standing in the play ground, with nothing to do and Tommy is almost out of bubble gum and really wants to smoke – the one thing he did take up after his father's death but no one knew about it – thinking about the case, their covers, his childhood trauma…and this kid decides to pick a fight.

He is half Doug's size, has no muscle and is trying to take Harold's place. He probably figured that since Harold couldn't take on the McQuaids, he could. Tommy and Doug stared at the kid in utter surprise.

"Did you hear what he said, Tommy?" Doug asked. His hands were already fisted. Tommy popped his gum.

"Yeah," he glared, "he said our Mamma ran off because our Daddy isn't man enough for her,"

"Them's fightin' words," Doug took a step forward.

The kid hadn't thought this through at all; he hadn't any buddies to back him up and even if he did Tommy had taken out a whole slew just that very morning. The two took menacing steps towards him. He tried to hold his ground.

"What do you think we should do?" Doug asked.

"Beat him up but we'll probably be sent to Juvie for aggravated assault," Tommy replied.

"How about…we hang him from the flag pole?" Doug grinned. Tommy's dark eyes lit up with glee.

It took them only five minutes to grab the kid, yank his pants up and then hoist the kid up the fifty-foot flagpole by his boxers only. The kid held onto the rope for dear life while yelling for someone to help him. The group of kids on the ground laughed and some said the Pledge of Allegiance.

"We salute you!" Tommy yelled. The two made as if they were blowing on invisible dice before giving said dice a roll and walked off. Both hooting in laughter about the prank they just pulled.

**0000**

Mr. Marsh watched from the window of his office; "those two have some spunk," he muttered.

"You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?" a small, mousy man asked from behind. He was Mr. Dan Sullivan. The English Teacher.

"From what I'm told, the last shipment didn't even make it to the pick up point," Mr. Marsh fumed. He turned away from the window and wailing kid on the flagpole.

"And you're going to use the McQuaids to get the job done?" Mr. Sullivan asked.

"They'd be perfect if I could trust them, no, I'll have to break them down and the build their trust in me. Once I have gained their undying gratification, they'll do anything for me," Mr. Marsh smirked. He steepled his fingers and pursed his lips.

"They seem to be tough kids," Mr. Sullivan said nervously.

"You just make sure the stuff is made and packaged properly, Mr. Sullivan, I'll take care of the McQuaids," Mr. Marsh threatened.

That is Mr. Sullivan's queue to get out.

**0000**

"Do you think we over did it?" Tommy asked. He stood at the sinks in the locker room and fiddled with his white do-rag. A toilet flushed and Doug slammed through the stall door and made a beeline for the sinks to wash his hands.

"Nahw, he did say shit about our folks, or don't you remember?" Doug gave Tommy a raised eyebrow look via mirror. Tommy sighed and spat his overly chewed gum into the garbage can.

"Well, I guess it's fine, has someone let him down yet?" Tommy asked.

"The kids ain't gonna do that, but the teachers might," he shrugged. Tommy nodded. It was important – now that they had established a reputation – to keep said reputation or risk the legend of the McQuaids to die a horrible death right here and now. If that happened and word got out to other schools, if they had to go undercover like this again, they'd be a laughing stalk; Tommy just hoped the kid didn't fall down and get broken legs or worse, died.

"It's fine, if you want we'll go out there and give the kid a chance to make it up to us, you know, be our own personal slave," Doug opened the door and he and Tommy exited the bathrooms to an empty hallway.

"We haven't seen all of this place, have we?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Mid-night adventuring then?" Doug smiled excitedly.

"Good thing we're good at sneaking around," Tommy grumbled. They made their way upstairs to the dorms.

**0000**

Tommy and Doug McQuaid are not the most patient people when there is a carrot in front of them and they want to eat it so badly. Their afternoon is filled with dumbed-down classes of English, Math and Science. Tommy had been called by one teacher to answer a question and deliberately gave the wrong answer even though, of the two of them, he was smarter. They skidded by with flying colours at every turn annoying the teachers but not doing anything to get into trouble on their first day at the school. They had to get a rudimentary map going for their evidence file. Plus, it always helped to know the lay of the land.

And for once Tommy found himself wishing to actually be in the cafeteria of a school that served pizza – no matter how burnt – with soda than the swill they got at dinner that night. It was like a scene out of a Charles Dickens novel with all the kids lined up in their shabby clothing. One kitchen worker handed them a bowl of soup and some bread was plopped in it. Tommy had read articles about prisons in other countries that made their own bread and soup and that it was the best thing the prisoner's were ever served; well, Tommy thought that put this place to shame as he and Doug sat down to eat.

The brother was an ugly brownish-grey colour with the bare minimum of vegetables. The bread could have been saved if it hadn't been plopped right in the middle of the bowl. Tommy and Doug frowned. They weren't the only one's. But they knew they couldn't just up and walk away. It wasn't like a normal undercover job. This wasn't a nine to four school. This was twenty-four-seven and they both knew that they had to eat the bread-soup concoction.

It looked better than it tasted. Tommy was hoping for a watered down version of vegetable soup. But it tasted like dirty dish water with salt. They ate as fast as they could because this was just nasty.

"I think I'm going to puke," Doug muttered as low as he could so only Tommy could hear him. The teacher's on the other hand looked on their food with a bit of mirth. The smells collided with each other, and Tommy wished the teachers didn't eat in the same area as the students. They had shepherds pie that night. It smelled home made and even a bit like his mom's.

"Wow…I've only read about this in books," Tommy sighed. He was hungry. The half ladle of soup and bean sized bit of bread wasn't enough to hold anyone over. And that's when thoughts of breaking into the kitchen that night seemed more than a little bit appealing. But, it'd be noticed.

"We should check out the basement tonight and then scram for some real food," Doug suggested. Tommy nodded. If anything, it meant for a few moments he could be himself and not the wiseass cover he had for this assignment.

**0000**

Fuller was in his office when he heard a ruckus out in the main office area; then the voice of Penhall and Hanson "shushing" each other. He rolled his eyes. He hoped the two knew what risk they were putting the case on by coming back before they had any proof of anything. One day wasn't enough to get anything done.

He rose and crossed the room to open the door. It was gloomy outside his little office. And yet there was Hanson and Penhall fingering through files at Judy and Ioke's desks. So maybe they were on to something. But what? He wondered.

"What are you two doing here?" Fuller asked, surprising both men who spun around and looked as guilty as a five year old trying to sneak a cookie from the cookie jar.

"We didn't think you'd be here so we thought we'd check ourselves," Hanson coughed to cover the awkwardness.

Doug nodded his head; "what he said, Coach."

"And you don't think anyone at the school will find that suspicious?" Fuller pursed his lips. Hanson and Penhall toed the floor with their shoes.

"Well…maybe," Hanson gave in at last.

"But we can handle them, we've traumatized a few kids all ready," Doug offered. Hanson popped his elbow into Doug's side for that one. Fuller gave them both the "you had better tell me what is going on before I kick your asses and make you regret ever being born" look. Which had Doug caving faster than Hanson could deny anything.

"Well, the King of the Mountain challenged us this afternoon, I had him in a choke hold while Tommy here kicked his fella's tail. And then some other kid tried to do the same thing, only he was stupid and didn't have anyone to back him up. So we hung him up on the flagpole by his undies," Doug explained so fast that the words blended into one another and it was semi-hard for Fuller to understand the whole explanation.

"Okay, so you're hoping that you scared them enough that if they did wake up and find the two of you sneaking out that they wouldn't tell?" Full asked, doubt covered his face and the two officers' deflated a lot by that. Both looking dejected.

"Ummm…"

"It's a calculated risk," Hanson muttered. He ran a hand through his un-kept, dark brown hair.

"It's been one day, it can't be that bad," Fuller shot back.

"They don't feed anyone near enough to do anything," Hanson replied, solidly. There was the boy Fuller knew and liked.

"Yeah, it's like a soup line from the Great Depression at dinner. The teacher's get the good stuff," Doug hopped onto that bandwagon.

"Plus, the classes are crap," Hanson put in hurriedly.

"So it's a bad school; at the end of this when we find out why those boys died we might be able to get an investigation going," Fuller said. "but the two of you need to be on your toes, so that means going back and getting some sleep before morning classes start,"

"Okay," Hanson sighed, knowing that he and Penhall had lost the battle before it had even started.

"Sure thing, Coach," Doug yawned.

"And as for our end of things, we're no closer than we were before. I think it's all up to you guys," Fuller informed them gently. Then he ushered them out to his car. They wait in the back seat while he locked up and then he drove them across town to the school. The two quietly got out of the car, and didn't slam the door; not wanting to chance waking people up. Slowly, Fuller drove away.

**0000**

Tommy stared up at the building and bit the nail of a finger since he was out of gum. It was dark and foreboding. The woods that stood off and around the perimeter of the school yard was seething with eyes of creatures Tommy thought he'd left behind in his childhood.

They scaled the brick wall since the iron fencing was rusted and made a ton of noise if anyone even poked it with a finger. Once over the wall, they waited in the shadows to see if anyone was out investigating. After five minutes of this they slowly made their way to the school. Crickets sang all around them. The wind blew through the trees and an owl hooted above their heads.

"I wish I was home right now," Tommy whispered.

"With a beer and a good game," Doug agreed.

"Is it ever worth it?"

"Always,"

**0000**

Morning came faster than Tommy or Doug cared for; it was like being back in the Military Academy. The alarm clock struck six and then gave a loud, long whistle. Kids popped up from their beds, rushing to dress and make up the beds in the way the staff liked.

Tommy and Doug groaned and swore vengeance on that stupid clock as they followed everyone else in the morning rituals. And just like a Military Academy they all had to stand by the beds and wait for a teacher to inspect their spaces. Today, Mr. Sullivan had the honor of doing this job. He walked in with a cain in one hand. He twirled it and several kids near him watched nervously; the cain came close to clipping one kid on the ear. He ducked away just in time.

Tommy glanced at Doug who watched Mr. Sullivan closely. Doug always became a bit more protective when they were the McQuaids. Tommy chalked it up to Doug not having a stable childhood or even siblings to take care of. Not that he could say much on that front either since he too was an only child. Well. Things could be worse.

Mr. Sullivan calmly strolled through the dorm until he came to them; Tommy wished he had gum to chew on nosily just to annoy the man. The cain twirled and both men watched it suspiciously. Though Tommy also watched for out side threats; preferring for Doug to concentrate on the main threat to their well being right now.

"Tuck your shirts in, boys," Mr. Sullivan said chirpily at them. Tommy and Doug exchanged a look. Tommy rolled his eyes.

Neither moved to do as they were told. The rest of the student body watched closely. All the new kids were tested like this; no one told them so, but these two seemed to have been around the block a couple of times. Harold watched more intently than the other kids, even stepping out of line to get a good view.

"Well?" Mr. Sullivan asked, annoyed at not being obeyed right off that bat.

"Tommy!" Doug growled, giving Tommy the signal to mouth off.

"We don't conform," Tommy said when pushed by his older brother. He threw Doug the bird. Doug cracked his knuckles in reply. The kids gasped audibly. They didn't know the McQuaids very well, but they never would have thought that the brothers would actually fight each other, even if they were pretty hands on and pushed each other around a lot.

"Is that so?" Mr. Sullivan asked. Tommy blinked at the smaller man and was almost hit with the cain for his refusal. Tommy ducked out of the way. Doug stepped forwards and grabbed the cain from Mr. Sullivan; and in front of everyone, he broke the cain in two over his knee.

Tommy clapped his hands, grinning as Doug threw the pieces of wood onto the floor. Doug stepped forwards threateningly; "Don't you ever try and hurt Tommy again," then he tweaked Mr. Sullivan's nose.

He and Tommy exchanged their signature hand shake and yelled; "The McQuaid Brothers! Ha!"

They pushed past the teacher and decided that breakfast was better than hanging around the dorms for more trouble. Though, breakfast was just as depressing as supper the night before, only this time they couldn't sneak out and get hot dogs at Rocket Dog. They had to go to class.

**0000**

Tommy wasn't surprised when Mr. Marsh called him and Doug to his office. They were made to sit on the hard bench for twenty minutes before Mr. Marsh called Tommy in for a one-on-one. He smiled gently as the brothers gave each other worried glances. Good, that was exactly what he wanted from them; their fear.

"Have a seat, Thomas," he gestured to a wooden chair that was just as uncomfortable as everything else in the school. Tommy glanced blankly at the chair before sitting down.

"Now, Mr. Sullivan isn't happy that your brother broke his walking stick," Mr. Marsh said as he sat down in the comfortable leather chair behind his desk.

"Sully almost got me with it, that's why Doug got mad and broke it," Tommy replied, slightly cockily, and yet he was aware of the danger he and Doug could be in if he didn't handle this meeting well.

"You see, that puts me into a situation I don't want to be in. You guys are new and I understand that your scared and wondering what'll happen to you. This is just for the interim, until the Social Workers can figure out if you're to go back to your family or to a foster home," Mr. Marsh steepled his fingers, he sounded as if he really cared. Tommy wasn't going to fall for it though. Too many boys had disappeared from the school and ended up dead – Tommy felt that some how Mr. Marsh knew about it.

"I know," Tommy nodded, deciding that going with it for now was the best thing to do.

"And Doug making trouble will possibly make it worse, maybe they'll split you up," Mr. Marsh pointed out. To anyone else that'd be a huge threat. Tommy, however, knew that even if the McQuaids were a cover, the two brothers would find ways to find each other and stay together. He wondered if he was crazy for letting to fictitious people get to him.

"Sully swung his cain at me," Tommy frowned, "Doug and I only have each other, we don't rely on other people because all they do is shit all over us. So, whether or not it was the wrong thing to do, Sully should've known that trying to hit me would result in Doug getting in his face," Tommy ranted and stood.

"You can say all that bullshit if you want," Tommy went on, "but I don't buy it. No one cares about us!" and then he slammed out of the office. Doug popped to his feet as soon as his younger brother came into view. They both ignored Mr. Marsh calling after them. Instead, they both made for their math class.

Mr. Lake was in mid lecture when the two crashed into the room. The door knocking back and then forwards as the two boys passed him by and made for the back row of desks.

"Is everything all right?" Mr. Lake asked. Tommy was so tired of the fake concern that he sneered at the teacher.

"Yeah," Doug folded his arms and took his seat, "Marshy didn't have enough time to write us a note."

Tommy swung his legs up and onto the desk, and then proceeded to ignore everything and everyone.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings - ?**_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/N – Out of all the episodes (except two where JD's character is in the spot light) I love the ones with the McQuaid brothers. I always wanted more fic with this cover. It's just so much fun to write Tom and Doug being total dicks. So, here is classic 21 Jump Street fic. And not for the last time am I glad I was born in the 80's even though I remember more of the 90's instead. ;)**_

_**ANOTHER NOTE - Sorry about reposting ch 1. I thought for sure it was chapter three. I guess I picked the wrong chapter in the options. Here is the correct chapter. **_

_**Chapter 3 – King of the Hill**_

_**000**_

The week passed by slowly. Tommy and Doug had made no headway in the case whatsoever. Increasingly though, Mr. Marsh had singled Tommy out for private counseling sessions. It's now Saturday and the two brother's are sequestered in an unused class room with Fuller who's cover is their Uncle from their Mother's side of the family.

"Nothing?" Fuller asked.

"Nope," Tommy shrugged, "No one's talked about it, like at all,"

"Granted the kids don't get close to anyone," Doug replied.

"They would be tight lipped," Fuller agreed.

"I want to get into Marsh's office," Tommy offered, "I'm there enough as it is that no one would question it,"

"And what do you plan on finding?" Fuller asked.

"I don't know, but right now I don't think we have a choice. What are Ioke and Judy finding out?" Tommy popped his gum. Thankfully Fuller had brought him several packs.

"Nothing, as far as we can figure from the bodies and crime scenes, the boys are unconnected except for having gone to this school. So whoever is killing them either knew someone that looked like each of the murdered boys, or has it out for this school and they're the easiest targets," Fuller replied.

"Marsh seems to be the obvious suspect," Doug put out, "but what about Sullivan? Or even Lake?"

"Why don't you investigate them while Tommy concentrates on Marsh," Fuller said. "And if none of them have connections and we can rule them out, we'll concentrate the teachers and then the students,"

They heard a door close and footsteps come down the all; Fuller grabbed Tommy by his shirt collar, he winked once and Tommy winked back twice. Doug took on his stance of protective elder brother and then Fuller began yelling.

"I can't believe the two of you and the trouble you've gotten yourselves into! Norma isn't too happy to find out that she might not get custody of you thanks to that low life bastard who calls himself your father! And you can't even help the Social Worker or the Director of this place so that you can come home!?"

The door opened and Mr. Marsh entered the classroom in a hurry after hearing the confrontation between Uncle and nephews.

"I'm…Sorry…" Tommy stuttered, playing it straight.

Mr. Marsh stood close and put his hand on Fuller's shoulder; "Sir, they're just children, you can't ask them to make adult decisions when they're this age. Now just calm down…I'm sure that this can be fixed and you'll have your nephews safe at home soon…" he said soothingly. Fuller go the heebie-jeebies from the man and now understood why Tommy was suspicious of the man in the first place.

"Don't tell me that you've handled them better, Marsh," Fuller replied keeping to the cover.

"Of course not, but I think I've made some headway with the boys. A little trust and affection can go a long way, isn't that right boys?" Mr. Marsh glanced at Doug but it lingered on Tommy.

"Er…" Doug blinked at the men.

"Right," Tommy agreed because what else was he supposed to do?

And was it him, but were they just a bit…on the quiet side of things? Usually they were making mayhem all over the school, but now…they were just a bit intimidated by Marsh and that made no sense what so ever. They were supposed to be the McQuaid brothers – they obviously sucked at this. And needed to fix it immediately.

"Well, since you think your God's gift to the world, you can keep them," Fuller huffed. He stalked off without even a "good-by" to the boys and the door banged shut behind him. Tommy felt bereft. Doug was a little disappointed and it must have showed because Mr. Marsh put an arm around Tommy's shoulders and offered one to Doug though he kept his distance.

"It's all right, I'll recommend some family counseling," Mr. Marsh said as if that'd fix everything. Tommy suddenly caught himself, their family didn't need counseling, and their family didn't exist!

"Well…" Doug sighed.

"Fuck!" Tommy glared at his shoes.

That summed it up beautifully for everyone.

**0000**

They took refuge in the forest when no one was looking. They hopped the low brick wall and ducked down and behind as they made their way through the thick underbrush. After a few moments they came to a huge willow tree overlooking a small pond. Tommy sat down on the emerald grass. Doug lent against the tree.

"That went a bit too well," Tom muttered, thankful that they didn't have to keep up the act any more.

"Yeah, Fuller isn't gonna like having to come back here on a regular basis for some sort of bullshit," Doug replied.

"I think it's got us in good with Marsh though,"

"You maybe, he still hates me," Doug snorted.

Tom admitted to himself that this was true. Marsh talked harshly to Doug, unless he knew that kind words would work on the younger sibling. If Tom hadn't been trained to pick up on little queues that Marsh gave out on a regular basis, he'd probably have taken the man at his word. As it was, there was far too much touching between them – though it hadn't gone south of the border yet and Tom hoped it wouldn't – and Marsh seemed pre-occupied in getting him and Tom alone in his office. Whenever he talked to Doug he left the door open, but when he talked to Tom…it was closed. And locked.

Red flags flew all over the place.

"Do you think he's just a pedophile?" Doug asked.

"I don't know, he hasn't said anything about sex in any of our conversations. It's all about what I can do with my life if I just give up drug dealing and fighting and that if I put my mind to it I could go to college and get a good job. You know, all the normal stuff people tell kids," Tom shrugged.

"And that's it? Those things last for hours," Doug complained.

"I know," Tom rolled his eyes, "I just sit there and nod whenever and say "I understand but you don't understand how hard it is to get out of a business like that…" you know, a bunch of bull shit," Tom explained with an exasperated sigh.

"Do you think we're barking up the wrong tree?" Doug asked.

"Possibly, but who else could it be?" Tom replied with a question of his own.

**0000**

Moonlight filtered into the large room unheeded by blinds or curtains and sleeping children. Tommy lays awake in his bed while Doug snored softly in his own. He should be getting some sleep. Every once in a while though he'd develop insomnia and it was a bitch to try and get rid of. Especially since the techniques he used at home couldn't be used here thanks to the nonexistent privacy and the fact that Tommy McQuaid didn't have insomnia.

But, Tom Hanson did and it sucked.

The clock read one in the morning. The office would be deserted at this time. They hadn't been able to sneak about and make their map of the school yet. Something always seemed to come up and distract them. Well, maybe he could take a cursory look right now. He'd be back in bed before anyone noticed, even Doug.

Tommy slowly extracted himself from the sheets and blankets. He made up the pillows and covering to look like someone was sleeping in the bed. If no one inspected it thoroughly, it'd pass and no one would be the wiser. Tommy then tip toed past all the sleeping kids. Thank fully no one made sudden movements to alert him that they were awake and he prayed they were all asleep and not pretending because that'd suck.

He decided to make his way to the large locker room with the showers to way lay any suspicions incase someone was awake and watching him. He ducked into the shadows of the hallway and quietly, in socked feet, slides down the hallway, avoiding the soft light of the night lights that are located every ten feet in the hallway. The stairs is the darkest part and he hugs the wall. He listens intently for anyone moving about or talking.

Nothing but the heated air that crawls through the old vents and does nothing to get rid of the chill that lingers all night and well into morning. Tommy finally comes to the bottom of the stairs. He makes quick work of the lock on the door to the Admissions offices with an old credit card he always keeps on his person while under his McQuaid cover. The lock rolls back and Tommy slides into more darkness and shuts the door behind him. It locks back in place and he jiggles it just to make sure. The space is empty except for the receptions desk. Tommy makes for March's office. He has come prepared, since he'd been plotting all afternoon and evening for this, and he pulls out a compact flash light to illuminate his way; and, again, the credit card gets him inside. The door locks behind him and Tommy studies the desk.

He can't move everything without putting it right back in the same spot, in the same way, because people who inhabit a space long enough know when something is out of place. Tommy wants to avoid any and all suspicion and so he takes a long, studies look at the contents. And really, who'd leave evidence lying around in the open. Only stupid criminals did that. Even if he found something illegal in the drawers it would be admissible in court but maybe Fuller could get a search warrant based on it; whatever "it" just so happened to be.

He tested the drawers, all were locked, and he didn't have his lock picks on him. He huffed and frowned. He grabbed a pen and some note paper from what Marsh had left on the desk and went through the roller deck. He wrote down each name and all the information on the cards. There were at least fifty names. Maybe one of these people could help. Tommy made sure to take a few extra pieces of the notepaper so that no one could discover what had happened.

It was one of those tricks he saw a lot in mystery tv shows; all you had to do was take a tip of a pencil and scribble it on some paper that'd been written on and you'd find out an important clue. He had tried this technique out as a child once to find out what a teacher's note to his mother was about and with that information he could come up with a pretty good excuse. Which did get him out of trouble but he was ten and wanted to go fishing with his Dad – and really it wasn't a big deal, and besides, Tommy had only been standing up for Russell who'd been badly bullied during their mid-grade school days. He never did tell her the truth about it and Tommy knew he never would. Though, he'd feel badly about it until the day he died.

Tommy secreted the notes into computer paper and then into an envelope. He put the Jump Street address on it and put "attention Capt. Fuller) on the bottom so that Blowfish knew that it had to be seen immediately. He didn't put a return address on it. He decided that while Marsh did have stamps on his desk, he'd see that one was missing. The rest of the office supplies were used all the time and he'd probably not remember how much he'd used. Tommy exited the office then after he made sure to fix anything he had messed up by messing around with the contents of the desk.

He did steal by the receptionist's desk and stole a stamp from her. And then he put the letter into the outgoing mail; which was basically a big ass box that was locked and only opened when the mailman came by to pick it up. All the contents would be put into his bad and then he'd leave. No one ever checked it. Tommy was certain that in a day or two Fuller would have some sort of lead other than Marsh. Because he might be up to something, Tommy wasn't sure what, but killing little boys sure wasn't the illegal activity Marsh liked to do.

Still, whatever Marsh was doing is still a mystery he and Doug had to solve.


	4. Chapter 4

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings - ?**_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/N – Out of all the episodes (except two where JD's character is in the spot light) I love the ones with the McQuaid brothers. I always wanted more fic with this cover. It's just so much fun to write Tom and Doug being total dicks. So, here is classic 21 Jump Street fic. And not for the last time am I glad I was born in the 80's even though I remember more of the 90's instead. ;) **_

_**And on another note; I don't know what cops can do while undercover. I have watched the movie, Donnie Brasco and read the books the real FBI agent wrote of which the movie was based off of; but I don't have a working knowledge, and for all intents and purposes of this story, I'm going with whatever floats my boat and makes sense for the plot. So they will do illegal things to get at what they need to make a case. This is in no way what happens in RL; I just need a lot of creative licensing.**_

_**(I also want to apologize for this update being so short. I plan on making the next chapter longer, so please forgive me the time it'll take to do that. Thank you all for reading)**_

_**Chapter 4 – Gang Ground**_

_**0000**_

Ethan Michaels sat on a pic-nick table smoking menthols and brooding; his bid for control had gone terribly when he had tried to take on the McQuaids a few days before and it ended up with him at the top of the flagpole….by his underwear. He had been sure at the time that his underwear would rip and he'd fall the ten or so feet to the ground and get a couple of broken legs and a punctured spleens. Mr. Sullivan, however, had gotten him down safely and lectured Ethan on taking on boys twice his side and with more weight to throw around than Ethan's skinny ass.

Mr. Sullivan was right about Ethan and his skinny backside; but what Mr. Sullivan neglected to say was that you didn't simply fight a war with the bigger guns all the time. When you went out to fight a battle, you went with your brains. You manipulated the enemy; and then you made them pay up with their blood.

Ethan wasn't going to kill the McQuaids, but he was going to hurt their dignity and make them the laughing stalk of the school. He spied them even now leaving the main school building and making for a shady bit of brown grass in the more busy part of the play ground. They liked the younger children and would gladly push them on the swings if asked nicely. No one said anything about this, seeing as how they'd taken care of Harold's gang and Ethan all in the same afternoon.

And that left Ethan with a few members who thought he talked trash and couldn't hold up his end of the stick, a few that were angry and wanted back at the McQuaids, and then a few who wanted to take over and defeat Harold first before they went after the two new kids.

Ethan knew that if he wanted to keep his gang together; he'd have to appease all of them. And actually think about how he was going to take the McQuaids on a second time. Obviously he couldn't do it alone. He'd only tried that first so that if he did beat them both up – which at the time he had thought would be a piece of cake – he'd have garnered more respect and other kids would join his gang. The more he collected, the better their chances at getting Harold and his ilk out of power.

The McQuaids, however, didn't respect that the school all ready had two gangs that dealt in guns and drugs and whatever else the kids of the school thought they needed. They just dealt and didn't share their profits what so ever. They needed a beating. Badly. And he knew he wasn't the only one thinking this.

He'd heard that Harold's gang was looking into beating up the two kids themselves. The McQuaids didn't even look worried. Not even when a blank piece of paper with the Black Spot had been delivered via a scared kid had they been worried. Tommy had opened it at breakfast that day, and then laughed his ass off.

"Who do those bastards think we are!?" everyone heard Tommy chortle, "we're not pirates!" it was a great joke to both of them and they went about their business like usual.

Disrespectful assholes - the both of them.

Ethan finished his third menthol in the last five minutes; he dropped it to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his hole-filled tennis shoe. He wasn't stupid enough to do anything today, instead, he decided he'd bide his time and work on a plan that'd take out Harold and the McQuaids all at the same time.

**0000**

Across the park, standing under the huge oak tree and minding their own business; the McQuaids surveyed the playground. Tommy chewed rigorously on his gum while Doug lent against the tree with his arms crossed and just glared at nothing.

"What'd you find out last night?" Doug asked lowly. No one was around, and Tommy even checked behind their tree and in the branches just in case. No one.

"I copied names of people from the roller desk onto some paper and mailed it to Fuller," Tommy replied.

"That's risky, don't ya think?" Doug blinked down at Tommy who now sat under the tree. Tommy blew a gum bubble and let it pop before answering.

"No one looks at the mail going out anyway. They either talk about it before hand, or see it themselves. And since I used their stationary, no one will think twice," he shrugged.

"And what if they do find it?"

"We might have to come up with a contingency plan," Tommy admitted.

"What?"

"But don't worry. I was in the office when the mailman came, you know before we met up and came out here. He took the mail and no one saw a thing," Tommy explained.

"That's right," Doug agreed, he remember Sullivan pulling Tommy away from lunch for some important meeting with Marsh. Doug even had to go to morning classes without Tommy because whatever meeting they were having were taking so god damned long.

"What'd he talk to you about today?" Doug asked.

"How is our street bizz going, bro?" Tommy looked up and smirked.

"Good, I suppose, why?"

"Marsh wants in, he's got some PS that's ready to be shipped out and sold, but no one to do it for him," Tommy replied.

Doug whistled. PS otherwise known as Pure Snow was a new drug on the block that they'd only heard of but had never gotten their hands on, until now. They could find out with a sample what it really was. His best guess was a derative of cocaine.

"So, are we gonna do it?" Doug asked.

"I gotta call Fuller," Tommy shrugged, "either way we need the money to bring back otherwise he'll know something is up; I did ask how much he was wanting us to sell it for, and he said a hundred a pop,"

Doug whistled again; dully impressed.

"And you're gonna do it tonight?" Doug asked.

"I guess we could sneak out, I mean, if anyone caught us we could say it was on Marsh's orders, right?"

Doug nodded. It was good to be the teachers-pet sometimes. And in this case, the Principles.

"What about the dead kids?" Doug asked, suddenly remembering why they were there in the first place.

Tommy shrugged. "What about the other teachers?"

"Nothing, I was able to get into Sullivan's desk before class this morning. Nothing but normal teacher stuff," Doug replied with a sigh.

"Were you expecting a shrine to the victims or something?" Tommy groused.

"That's how it is in the movies, isn't it?" Doug mocked Tommy back.

"Whatever, the only crime here is drug trafficking,"

"Yup," Doug agreed. They sat there in silence for a few moments, watching the playground and the kids running about getting up to all sorts of mischief.

"In the mean time," Doug said, "Harold,"

Tommy sneered.

"I think he's going to try something soon," Doug continued.

"I was able to beat up at least four of his guys, the only way they could get the jump on us is if we aren't looking for it," Tommy scoffed. He popped his gum obnoxiously; he spied their flagpole friend glaring at them from across the yard.

"And that guy we strung up, he's out for our blood too," Tommy said. Doug nodded. He'd been watching their flagpole friend watching them this whole time. If looks could kill, he and Tommy would be more than just grave dust.

"Hmmmm…" Tommy lent against the tree at Doug's feet in thought.

"What?"

"We should…pit them against each other…" Tommy muttered.

"Uhhh…distraction?"

"Yeah, we'll tell them that Marsh has put us in charge from now on and we're looking for some good drug runners, then we just tell them to go and…do silly things. Nothing dangerous, of course, but…something that'll keep them distracted from us," Tommy explained.

"And whoever said you weren't a genius?" Doug clapped Tommy on the shoulder and grinned down at the younger man happily.

"My grandmother," Tommy muttered, but he shot Doug a return smile anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

_**St. joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none **_

_**Rating – pg13/R**_

_**Disclaimer – I am not making any money off this fan fiction. I am borrowing characters based off someone else's creation. I do own all OC's(and the copyright forthwith)**_

_**Summary – Due to violent deaths involving children from a well-known boys school for delinquents; Tom and Doug reprise their rolls as the McQuaid brothers to find the perpetrator(s). They may not find exactly what they are looking for. **_

_**A/n – I want to thank everyone who has stuck to this story so far. Thank you very much and happy reading. And if this reads in an odd way; I've been watching Downton Abbey so blame it on that. ;) **_

_**0000**_

_**Chapter 5 – Hunting we will go**_

_**0000**_

Ioke can see the season changing in the blink of an eye as he stands under a grove of large oak trees, the leaves have fallen mostly to the ground and rotted, but a few dot the branches with bright golds, reds and yellows. All a sign that the end of Fall is near and Winter shall soon be upon the city he tries to protect.

He and Judy aren't having much luck with their investigation into the deaths of five children from St. Joseph's School for Boys. And all of his research he has done on the school (on the sly, he hasn't told Judy or Fuller he's been looking into things) tells him that there is more to that grey monstrosity than they know. They haven't heard from Tom or Doug either. Of course it'd be impossible for them to try and make contact while they're inside. Someone might over hear something and then the cat would be out of the bag – so to speak. Even the names Tom had sent hadn't led them to the killer they sought.

So far - anyone who could be suspected; was suspected and check out thoroughly: mothers, fathers, grandparents, cousins…anyone who had a motive to hide their guilt by kidnapping and murdering other children from the same school; it panned out to nothing. Everyone had a solid alibi. And it was hard investigating people who were grieving. They all acted out of character. Still, someone had to do the job.

"We're at a dead end," Judy huffed from behind. Ioke blinked back to reality, he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he'd forgotten where he was and what he was supposedly doing.

"I know," he replied.

"It's pretty out here, not a lot of people come out this far, do you think?" Judy said as she took a few steps past him to sit at the base of an oak tree.

"Probably not," Ioke had to agree. The path they took to see the burial places of the dead children had been nearly impossible to find even when looking for it. The path was more a dear path than a hiking trail and rocky, slick and all around inhospitable to travel.

"Could there be more?" Judy asked. "It's just that I find it impossible to think that with the bodies found so close together that there isn't more to find," she glanced around the empty glen and found nothing but birds hunting for grub.

"What if…it's the beginning of something?" Ioke asked. "I've read up a lot on serial killers and…well…what if the boys that were found were his first victims and he was simply practicing to join the big leagues," he put out there.

Judy cocked her head to the side and considered. "I suppose so," she said after a few long moments.

"Than what does it matter if all the boys went to the same school for a couple of weeks or months; by the time they'd been killed they'd left the school. They all lived in different parts of the city too. None of them could have known each other very well,"

"There goes the theory that they were all at the school when they died," Judy huffed despondently. She propped an elbow on a knee and then rested her chin in her hand.

"It takes time to catch a serial killer, and some of them haven't even been caught even though we know about them, the Midnight Killer in California, the Green River Killer…and the FBI say's that there are almost twelve in every city at work even as we speak, possibly more. But they're the good one's because they never get caught," Ioke was only too happy to provide this information much to Judy's chagrin.

"We can't give up," she said.

"I know," Ioke shrugged, "but we have no leads,"

Judy dragged her hand through the rotting leaves. "We know that the killer likes to dump the bodies here, but what's so special about this place?" she asked, more to herself than to Ioke who understood and just kept silent. She shifted leaves and sighed as she watched them crumble. She took up a bunch in her hand and destroyed them with her fingers. The little bits of dried foliage dropped to the forest floor to rest there once more; but to her surprise, a tarnished, gold locket had been left in her grasp.

"What is that?" Ioke asked, noticing the glint of sun off spun gold.

"I think…" Judy got onto her hands and knees and started shifting through the leaves again. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she'd find something. Soon Ioke got in on the hunt. They moved the forest debris enough to find…

"Bones…" Ioke gulped.

Judy clutched the locket to her chest. Eyes watering. She'd been right.

0000

"Well, the ME is certain she's a victim of the same crime as the boys that started all this," Fuller said as he handed over the coroner's report. Judy tentatively took it. The body of Jane Doe number one-hundred-and-Thirteen. If the picture in the locket was anything to go boy, she'd been at least ten years old when she died; with long brown hair and big, blue eyes. She had had a sharp nose and chin along with straight teeth, and happy.

"How could anyone not know where she's been all this time?" Judy asked.

Fuller watched Judy closely. Even though the locket was evidence, she had polished it up and was wearing it on a new chain around her neck. Of course without more evidence they couldn't even add the death of this Jane Doe to the one's of the boys – this little girl wasn't going to see justice done to her killer.

"It shouldn't happen," Fuller said, "but it did, and I'm afraid it's too late to help her."

"I know, it's just…sad," Judy sniffled, trying hard not to cry. Usually she was so good at holding back her emotions and not letting it get to her. But this had been a surprise. It felt as if she were directed there by some unseen hand to find the locket and then the bones of this little girl without a name.

"It's a tragedy, and if we can prove that her killer is the one and the same for the Faller we'll get him," Fuller replied.

"Faller?" Judy looked up puzzled.

"That is what the press has dubbed the Serial Killer, apparently, the journalist writing about our case has done some research of his own and has come up with a pattern. In his article he explains that every five years, five children go missing. Each year has a theme. One year was six-year-old little girls with bouncy, blond curls, another year it was five-year-old boys with brown hair and blue eyes. Never seen again, and all kidnapped out of the blue. The journalist suspects that this year it was delinquent kids who were most susceptible to being victims than other children since parents have become better at guarding their kids," Fuller explained.

"And they call him Faller because of the season," Judy muttered to herself.

"Obviously," Fuller shrugged.

"What have Tom and Doug found out?" Ioke asked, up and until then forgotten.

"Tom sent me a letter with a list of names, presumably names that Marsh knows, I've asked for any criminal files on them," Fuller tapped the top of his desk in rhythm. "Other than that, nothing. I don't know how much trouble they are in,"

"Maybe it's for the best, them not contacting us," Judy put in, "we can't have them blowing their cover just because we're worried about them,"

"They're on to something other than our Serial Killer I'm afraid," Fuller sighed, "Tom thinks Marsh is a dealer,"

"What sort of dealer?" Ioke asked.

"I don't know," Fuller shook his head, "he only said that he suspects it and he'll call with more details as soon as he can confirm," Fuller found the list of names and the little note Tom had quickly scribbled at the bottom. Judy took it and scanned it for any danger words. Nothing. He'd been in a hurry, but wasn't in danger of loosing his life, or Doug's.

"What do you make of it?" Fuller asked.

"He was probably taking too much of a risk, I mean he had to have been in the office to get the names right? Where else do people keep a list of names other than an address book of some sort," Judy handed that bit of the letter to Ioke.

"And if I wanted to get into an office when no one was around I'd go at night," she continued, "I'd break in with the least amount of force; snoop around the desk, and then use the supplies. No one would see that anything was missing because they use it all the time," Judy explained.

"Who are you?" Ioke jokingly mocked, "Sherlock Holmes?"

"Well, Tommy did use stationary with the schools' name and symbol on it, so obviously he had gotten it from the office, and if he were smart he'd have gotten a stamp from the secretary. He probably conned it off of her with a smile and some lie about sending a letter off to his dear old mum!" Judy scoffed.

"Probably," Ioke handed the letter back to Fuller, "I didn't see anything out of character for Tom."

"I'll go up on Saturday, I'm posing as their Step-Uncle. I'll get a better update then," Fuller put the letter to the side. "until then, do your best to id this girl you found. We should at least know who she is,"

Judy and Ioke took that as their chance to leave and get some coffee before they went through boxes and boxes of missing person's reports.

0000

The sixth body of a boy was found by a couple walking their dog in the more wild part of the park. They phoned the police as soon as they got to a payphone and by seven that morning Judy and Ioke had been informed and were on their way to the scene.

"Why haven't we called the FBI into this?" Judy asked.

"I'm sure they have been," Ioke replied, "and are dealing with it through Fuller,"

"I don't know, I wouldn't mind the help," Judy said. They stepped under the yellow tape and showed their badges to a junior officer tasked with keeping people out of the crime scene. Not a big crowd had appeared, since the couple had been taken to the station for their reports and the scene wasn't very public. Only trees and forest vegetation could be seen for miles since the park was rather huge. On one side was the Suburban haven of Summer Lane, and on the other side, more towards the west stood St. Joseph's.

"Ah, there you are," a man in a black suit said with a small smile when he turned to see who had newly arrived at the scene. He had short black hair that was slick back in a stylish manner, and handsome. Judy couldn't help but notice the roman nose and light blue eyes he probably inherited from his father.

"Who are you?" Ioke asked.

"Norman Oswald Rum at your service, FBI," he held out is badge.

"Wow," Judy blinked, "Rum, really?"

Rum shrugged, "It's better than most names, really, anyway, I hear that you two are on the Serial Killer end of the spectrum when it comes to these murders, and that you found an earlier victim," he said, getting right at business.

Ioke nodded; "we found a little girl yesterday afternoon, not far from here actually," Ioke suddenly realized and if the map in his head was anything to go by, the girl had been found only half a mile away towards the East.

"Won't you show me that burial site later?" Rum asked.

"Of course," Judy agreed before Ioke could open his mouth, "I was wondering when the FBI would be sending someone to help us," she said. Rum turned back to the body. Right now a photographer from the FBI (his jacket said so) was carefully taking as many pictures of the bod and the surround foliage as he could.

"Yes well…we've been after the Faller for years now, we suspect he's getting too old for this but for some reason won't stop until he's dead," Rum explained.

"What do you think about the pattern, the one the journalist talks about," Ioke asked, and thankfully he had the newspaper in hand. On the front page was the whole story written by one James Moran.

Rum took the paper; "I must admit it has some weight and we're kind of looking at it seriously,"

"Really?" Judy was surprised at that, most police and government agents alike detested the media.

"Well, every time children go missing we're called in, naturally the FBI has investigated every instance that Mr. Moran speaks of in his columns. We haven't found a suspect though,"

"Did you investigate this Moran fellow?" Ioke asked.

"Discreetly," Rum winked, "keep that to yourselves, I'd rather it not get out because it'd be a big deal to Moran and his fellow journalist. They hate it whenever someone picks on them," he chuckled.

"Well, what about the victim?" Ioke asked, the photographer was done and packing up. The ME was on the sidelines waiting to collect the body. Mean while CSI was working around the three gathering evidence.

"It's a bit early to say, but I'd say blunt force trauma, that's usually how the Faller kills the kids before he rapes and murders them," Rum said with a disgruntled sniff.

"He'll face the death penalty if we ever do catch him," he added as an afterthought.

"I hope so," Judy agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**St. joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none**_

_**Rating – pg13/R**_

_**Disclaimer – I am not making any money off this fan fiction. I am borrowing characters based off someone else's creation. I do own all OC's(and the copyright forthwith)**_

_**Summary – Due to violent deaths involving children from a well-known boys school for delinquents; Tom and Doug reprise their rolls as the McQuaid brothers to find the perpetrator(s). They may not find exactly what they are looking for.**_

_**a/n – I'm sorry about the Ben and Jerry reference here. But…I thought it was far too amusing to let go of. I am also sorry that it's taken me so long to get this chapter written and posted. I had wished to be at least a chapter ahead by now, but I'm not. So…yeah. I am also sorry about how short this is. **_

_**0000**_

_**Chapter 6 – Ben and Jerry**_

_**0000**_

It's midnight. The sky is dark and thanks to the city lights, the stars are blanked out by man-made light. It's enough to see where one is going, but not enough to see if anyone else in the parking lot. Judy has her hand cautiously on her gun at her hip just in case some nut jumps out at her and tries anything. She's willing to shoot. She curses herself for parking so far away, even though the parking lot is small and usually there are only about three or four cars at any one time, the location still isn't the best.

Her Toyota is farthest away from the Chapel and she tries her best to get their fast, she has her keys out half way through the lot and in the slot and then she's about to get in when a small voice distracts her.

"Escuse me…?" the voice comes from the shadows. Judy is so jumpy by now that she has her gun out, aimed at the ground.

"Come into the light," she demands. And the small woman does. She's dressed in ragged clothing, but she doesn't smell like a dumpster. Judy would always remember that smell from their homeless case and it wasn't a very fond memory for her. The woman has mouse brown hair and light green eyes. She's thin and she's wrapped her arms around her body to try and warm herself against the cold.

"Who are you?" Judy asks. She's a little less cautious now but she doesn't go near the woman.

"My name is Benny," the woman replied softly, she takes a few more steps towards Judy.

"I saw on the news the deaths about those children," Benny continues, "and I know who killed them,"

"Who?" Judy can't believe her luck, "was it you?"

"No," Benny shakes her head in the negative, "My brother."

0000

Even though it was midnight and Judy was tired, she showed Benny into the Chapel and sat her down with a fresh cup of coffee at the dinning table that served for their main reports. This gave her the time to observe Benny. She was rake thin, and her clothing was very little. Ripped jeans, a shell and a checkered top. Judy wasn't even sure if Benny owned a coat. The woman had long mouse brown hair she kept up in a worn clip and her bangs hung in her eyes. A blossoming bruise decorated her left cheek and the beginnings of a black eye were visible in the dank light of the Chapel on a late night. Judy got Ioke and Fuller and then got coffee for them. She suspected they'd need it.

Introductions were made and then they all settled down to hear Benny's story;

"My brother isn't the first of our family to do this, but he's going to be the last," she started. "We grew up in an abusive household and our Dad paid attention mostly to Jerry. I never knew what they did, but I remember that they had a lot of rope, a shovel, rags and…toys…" she shivered and fiddled with her cup.

"Benny…?" Judy pushed slightly, "what sort of toys?"

"The sort you get at an adult toy store," Ioke put in because Benny had taken to sipping her coffee so that she wouldn't have to answer Judy. It became clear to the three of them that this woman had been through more than her fair share of violence and molestation in her life.

"I ran away when I was fifteen and only recently have I been in contact with Jerry. He told me that our Dad died of lung cancer a year ago, he inherited the house and when he found out I was at a homeless shelter he invited me to move in with him. He said that he didn't care what I did, just I wasn't allowed in the basement. Which was fine by me, at the time, because I always hated the basement of that house and never went there as a kid. So I agreed. And it was fine at first, I got to wash whenever I wanted, I could buy the groceries and Jerry never cared what I made. I always tried to make his favorite. And then one day; I heard crying."

Fuller, Ioke and Judy sat in rapt attention as Benny told the story. Her voice cheerful at first as she remembered the days when she finally had her big brother back and they were a family. They didn't have to worry about their father hitting one of them. It was a happy time. Then things got dark when she went to the basement and discovered the child. In a cage, naked, dirty, crying…and she didn't know what else had happened to the poor dear.

"I got the child out and wrapped her up in a blanket," Benny said, she took a slow breath. "I told her not to cry and be very quiet because Jerry was upstairs sleeping and we had to get to the hospital but we couldn't let him know. I got her to the car, and only grabbed my purse on the way out. I totally forgot my coat. But, in the end I got her to the hospital and her parents came and they told me that Ida, that's the child's name, had been missing for a few days but they hadn't known until the hospital called them. Ida knew her home phone number you see. Apparently she'd been at a friend's house for a sleep over, but the girls had decided to go to the movies without permission and snuck out. Only half way through the movie, Ida had gone missing on her way back from the bathrooms or something, and her friend hadn't known until the end of the movie and she couldn't find Ida anywhere. And she didn't tell her parents," Benny sighed, the story done with for now.

"What about Jerry?" Ioke asked, "did he hit you when he found out that Ida was gone?"

"Yes, I stopped by the grocery store because we needed things and I didn't want him to ask questions, when I got inside the house he attacked me from behind. He held a knife to my throat and asked me if I'd been in the basement. I told him of course not, he said not to go down there. He told me he found the lock undone. I told him it was an old lock, maybe it decided today not to work or something. It wasn't my fault." She shook her head solemnly. "He hit me a couple of times but I convinced him that I didn't know anything,"

"Can you give us Ida' full name, if we can verify with her maybe we can arrest Jerry," Fuller said. Happily, Benny gave all the information she had about Ida and her family.

000

Mr. and Mrs. Hannity weren't sure if they should put their six year old through this trauma. To them she'd reaped the consequences of her actions, as horrible as it'd been, and her life should go on without having to obsess over what the man had done to her; on the other hand, Mrs. Hannity pointed out to the family over dinner the previous day, Ida owed it to herself to see justice done, because while it was wrong of her to sneak out to a movie at midnight, it was wrong of the man to do the things to her that he'd done and that it wasn't fair nor right. This gave Ida the courage to go down to 411 Jump Street to face her abuser again.

This time, he was behind bars. Jerry Munch was tall, she didn't know how tall, but taller than her dad. With pale, yellow hair and complexion; along with big, scary hands that hurt her a lot when he'd kidnapped her and kept her in that cage. Now he was in the cage. He wore yellow coveralls and glared at them as they walked in.

Ida felt that he could still get her, but her parents were right there along with the police. They wouldn't let him scare her. She walked up to the cage the police had and she put her small hands on her hips and asked without doubt her fear showing in her big, beautiful green eyes; "how does it feel now?"

Everyone watched them; and Jerry glared down at her, but she could tell that he was done. She tuned her back on him and walked back to her mother. "He's the one," is all she said. Then the police sat her down with some soda and cookies and asked her to tell them everything that had happened to her. They said that'd it'd take some time for the trial but in the mean time just to get better. And as she took her mother's hand to leave, Ida figured that was as good as it was going to get and with Jerry in a cage, he could never get out and hurt her, or any other silly little girls, again.

0000

Judy came in bright and early on a Saturday morning to find Tom and Fuller chatting at the main table; she smiled and ran over to give Tom a huge hug; "it's been forever since I've seen you," she said, "how is your part of the case going?"

"I don't think our killer works at the school, but we've found a good source of Purse Snow," Tom replied, "That was what we were talking about," he indicated Fuller with his thumb. He was dressed in his Tommy McQuaid outfit, but it needed laundering but he smelt all right. No doubt he and Doug showering late at night or early in the morning when no one else was around.

"Who's dealing it?" Judy asked.

"Marsh and his minion Sullivan," Tom replied with a snort, "I got special permission to be out today because I have a meeting with a contact who could move the stuff on the street for a fair amount of money," again Tom indicated Fuller.

"If we get even an ounce of this stuff we could arrest him," Fuller said.

"But, I built you up big time, so you have to at least ask for half a ton of the stuff," Tom interrupted.

Judy whistled; impressed.

"What is Doug doing?" Judy asked.

"Keeping an eye on things, there's two gangs at the school who are out for our blood, so I'd better get back before they do anything to Doug," Tom sighed. He hopped off the table and promised to call them as soon as he could.

0000

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings – Drug dealing, off screen child abuse, off screen killing. **_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/N – Hopefully I'm a chapter ahead when I post this. **_

_**Also, remember that back in the 80's cell phones were huge and no one used them, much. So the phone thing reads weird in 2013 but back in the day this was normal.**_

_**0000**_

_**Chapter 7 – Who's the Boss?**_

_**0000**_

Tom was almost right about Doug being in trouble, but this sort of trouble he could handle. This was mostly due to being bigger and stronger than the boys who were trying to challenge him. But Bullies didn't fight; they threatened and did things to kids to make the kids fear them. They did things such as dumping small kids into trashcans or giving swirly's, taking lunch money and the like. And if it came down to it, fought with a gang. Doug, however, didn't have Tommy to back him up but that wasn't the point. The point was to show that the McQuaids, one or two, could take care of themselves.

And so, while Tommy was catching up with Fuller and the others, Doug was terrorizing Ethan Michaels with the threat of a swirly. Ethan had been caught going through the McQuaids personal effects. And Doug was making an example of him to the other kids who gathered around to watch. Doug held the kid upside down and over the toilet. He wasn't looking to drown the kid, but he had to dunk Ethan a couple of times – four at the most – to make a point. Ethan blubbered and begged to be let down and promised to do anything the McQuaids asked. The kids gathered around laughed or giggled though they tried to be scared, but it was just impossible. Doug kept up the anger and the yelling but inwardly he was wondering why he had to go to such lengths. Usually he pulled very inane things on kids, things that couldn't be called bullying, but this wasn't one of those things. At the same time, it wasn't polite to go through other people's things, unless they had a search warrant. Rules are rules for a reason.

"PLEASE! I SWEAR TO DO ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE!"

Doug smirked; "anything?" he asked, just to be clear. The kids giggled from behind.

"Yes! Yes!" Ethan practically screamed. Toilet water streamed down his face and into his hair. Doug decided that it was enough, besides if the blood rushes to a person's head for too long, that person could die and that's not cool. Not so gently, but enough not to hurt Ethan too much, Doug let the kid down onto the cold tile.

"You're gonna be my slave, and Tommy's," he added, "now go clean up, you stink," he was careful not to call the kid a name, even though "toilet-head" was on the tip of his tongue. He was allowed to do a lot of things in this line of work, but he wouldn't be blamed for starting something for this kid that could potentially scar him for life.

Ethan ran off. Doug turned to the other kids who had quiet and then scrambled. No one wanted to get in his way. Only the younger kids whom felt they wouldn't be hurt by big Dougie stayed around. "Who wants to go and swing?" Doug asked, because he felt it was better just to ignore the whole incident or be bombarded by questions he didn't want to answer.

A resounding; "Me!" went up and with the five kids he went to have some fun.

**0000**

Blowfish composed himself; he nervously fiddled with the cuff of his working coveralls. Tom couldn't use Fuller as his Dealer contact, but he could use Blowfish. All Blowfish had to do was sound like he knew what he was doing. He'd never been able to do anything like this and he wasn't sure if he could pull it off, however, he had too. Tom had pulled for him to get this janitor job and he was going to keep it, even by doing something like this. Tom was counting on him and Blowfish wasn't going to let his best friend down.

**0000**

Tommy wondered if he was becoming insensitive to the danger he would be in if Marsh and Sullivan found out who he actually was; and if they found out he was an undercover cop, than they'd find out about Doug and then they'd both be dead. At the same time he just wasn't worried about it. It'd been two weeks since they'd come to the school, and they had long since decided that their serial killer wasn't operating inside – instead they found a drug that'd been on their radar for at least a year, and the man dealing it. What he did with the money Tommy didn't know and had forgotten to ask Fuller about. But if it were important, Fuller would have told him.

Tommy popped in a new stick of gum as he walked past the 'locked' – a single chain and pad lock that was open and never seemed to work properly' gate and into the playground. He preferred to call it this because 'yard' was something for prison. This was supposed to be a school and while the building and playground did a formidable job at passing itself off as a school, to Tommy it just didn't feel like one.

Tommy spied Doug at the swing set simultaneously pushing four kids with a very young toddler sitting at Doug's feet and sucking his thumb. If they ever got the chance to have a family, Tom knew that Doug would be a good father. And this was great practice for him. Not only did it show that the McQuaids actually could like kids, when crossed they could do damage. And it never was a bad idea to have someone on your side.

He waved at Doug instead of joining him and continued his way past various groups of kids, some dealing drugs (possible PS but he wasn't sure) or playing (the younger kids who weren't hooked on drugs yet) and into the building. The secretary was away from her desk but Tommy knocked on Marsh's office door anyway.

"Come in," Marsh called, his voice muffled by the thin door. Tommy pushed his way through and closed the door behind him.

"It's done, but my contact wants you to call him," Tommy said as he slumped into the hard wooden chair in front of the desk. Marsh smiled warmly at him. And again Tommy wondered at himself again for not caring that he was in danger if he didn't play this right.

"He hates it when I bring around new people," Tommy sighed and popped his gum loudly, trying to come off as annoyed, "if he don't know ya, he don't deal for ya, but I convinced him you were a good guy with some good stuff."

"Did he ask what it did?" Marsh asked.

"Sure, an' I told him it was kinda like Heroine, but that I didn't know because I never got a look at it or saw it in action," Tommy shrugged.

"Would you like to try it?" Marsh asked inquisitively.

Tommy deadpanned; "no, I can't make good money if I'm high all the time. Besides, that's a good way to fuck up and get arrested," he popped his gum to make a point.

Marsh laughed and clapped his hands a couple of times.

"Was that a test?" Tommy asked, not impressed and it came across that way. Marsh got up from his chair and circled the desk to sit on the edge in front of Tommy. Tommy lent backwards in order to look up at the man. Marsh had this thing for people looking up at him. Tommy figured it fed his ego.

"Yes, of course it was," Marsh said cheerfully. "I can't trust someone who's on drugs, can I?"

"Obviously," Tommy muttered.

Marsh lent forward, his eyes were hard and Tommy braced himself for what was to come. Marsh pulled the white do-rag off of Tommy's head, revealing black, shaggy hair. He gripped the hair and tugged Tommy forwards. Tommy cringed because it hurt and he wasn't able to keep it back.

"Just so you know, Tommy, I like you. A lot. But if you cross me…I'll put a nine millimeter into your head, do I make myself clear?" Marsh asked, he was now grim and Tommy knew he was talking business.

"Yeah," Tommy couldn't nod his head, but he quelled the attitude and gave Marsh what the man was looking for. Anything else was suicidal. Marsh let him go and Tommy frowned as he redid his do-rag; the long ends trailing over his shoulder.

"I have to call him first," Tommy said, getting back to his 'contact'. Marsh nodded and moved the phone from his side of the desk to the other so that Tommy could use it. Tommy dragged his chair closer and picked up the receiver. He put in the number as fast as he could without making a mistake. He didn't want Marsh to know that he was calling his desk at the Chapel, but calling a street phone was too risky because someone could be using it, or something else could come up and he wouldn't be able to get through, at least he knew he'd get through to his own desk.

"Yo!" Blowfish at least had the presence of mind not to say that Tommy had called the Chapel.

"Hey, Duke, it's Tommy," he replied.

"Yeah, put the dick on," Blowfish, aka Duke for the job, demanded. Tommy acted cowed. He wanted Marsh to know that while Tommy respected his power at the school, the big fish here was The Duke. The biggest drug dealer out there and someone to take seriously. Marsh picked up on this and cleared his throat. Acting professional. Tommy ceased chomping on his gum out of 'respect'.

"Hello?" Marsh could help asking, "is this the Duke?"

"Yeah, now you look man, I don't usually let Tommy talk me into something this stupid. For all I know you could be the police. Be at the Pear tonight with the stuff and then we'll talk figures, but until I see you have the PS, I ain't gonna deal!" Duke demanded. Marsh didn't like the sound of that but if he wanted to expand his business he needed this contact.

"All right, at what time?" Marsh asked.

"Midnight," Duke replied and then he hung up the phone. Thankfully, as soon as Marsh hung up his end the phone rung and it was one of the caseworkers wanting an update. Tommy tried to leave them but Marsh caught the ends of his do-rag and tugged him back. All the while sounding quite caring to the social worker. Tommy retook his seat and waited. He tried not to be nervous, why when the whole thing was over was he nervous? What was wrong with him? Marsh might read something into it that wasn't there.

He waited and took a deep breath when Marsh put the phone back in its cradle; "Tommy," he wasn't smiling. Tommy didn't know what to think or do at the moment, so he waited.

"You're going with me tonight," Marsh said as he retook his seat. Tommy nodded.

"Be ready at eleven thirty," Marsh demanded. Tommy nodded and then with a wave from Marsh he made his escape.

**0000**

"What'd he want?" Doug asked. They stood under their tree. Once more Tommy made sure no one was up in the limbs or hiding out behind the thick trunk; "he wants me to go alone to the meeting tonight,"

"Did you brief Duke on it?" Doug asked, he didn't want to give Blowfish's cover away just in case. If anyone was listening, it'd just sound as if Tommy was filling his older brother in on things.

"Yeah, he knows what he's supposed to do," Tommy nodded and he hoped that Blowfish wouldn't blow it. They'd both be dead then, and then Doug could follow.

**0000**

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – none, gen. **_

_**Warnings – Drug dealing, off screen child abuse and molestation**_

_**Rating – pg-13**_

_**Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of 21 JS. I am not making any money off this fiction. I'm merely playing in someone else's sandbox. I do own the copy write of this story. So there!**_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out. **_

_**A/n – YES! A chapter ahead, I am so happy. **_

_**Funnily enough this turned out to be all about the bad guys…hmmm…so many irons in the fire, how am I gonna pay them all off?**_

_**A/N 2 - I just want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Ch 9 isn't done at all, if I keep a chapter ahead of myself it work out great for updates. But, all the encouragement really went to my heart and so here is another up date for ya'll. :) I will try to get ch 9 and 10 done soon. Thank you so much for reading. **_

_**0000**_

Mr. Sullivan glared at Ethan. They sat in Sullivan's office, which was smaller and shabbier than Mr. Marsh's. The desk was old but kept organized and a picture of Mrs. Sullivan had a prominent place on the desk. Ethan couldn't figure out how a woman who was drop dead gorgeous – she looked like an older Audrey Hepburn – married a lump of a man like Sullivan. But whatever it was, he obviously loved her.

However, Ethan reminded himself, he was in trouble. Big trouble.

"You didn't find anything?" Sullivan tried to come off as threatening, Marsh-like threatening but it just wasn't working. Ethan blinked and nodded.

"Nothing," the boy held his hands up, palms open and shrugged. "Not even drugs."

"And you got dunked in the toilet for it?" Sullivan asked almost because he just couldn't believe it. Doug McQuaid should have murdered Ethan for going through his and his brothers things, but the most important thing was that Ethan kept his head and didn't spill the beans.

"What does he know?" Sullivan asked.

"He doesn't know that you told me to go through their stuff if that's what you're getting at," Ethan snorted, "I basically just begged my heart out and made a good show so that he thought I was just curious or whatever," he waved his hand about and rolled his eyes, "and being his personal slave means that I'm closer than I was before," he tapped the side of his head and grinned, "I came up with that idea on the fly."

"You thought for yourself, that's a great improvement over your stupidity that you into this mess to begin with," Sullivan rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah…" Ethan huffed.

"Just see that if you do find anything, you come to me first," Sullivan intoned as harshly as he could, which wasn't very much, but to Ethan Sullivan was his best way to get out of the shit hole of the school.

"What about the younger kid, find anything in his stuff?" Sullivan asked.

"You're just asking because of Marsh being interested in him," Ethan deadpanned.

"Well?"

"Okay, okay, nothing much, just a bunch of gum," Ethan shrugged.

"So whatever they're dealing they have hidden on the grounds somewhere," Sullivan said to himself.

"There are a bunch of kids with drugs, do you want me to score some and plant it on the McQuaids?" Ethan asked, a bit overenthusiastic but Sullivan couldn't blame him for that. The kid always was trying to get ahead of the other kids and to get more brownie points so he could get out of this place and back with his grandmother. The old woman babied him badly, but Sullivan figured that having a woman do everything for you would be a sweet way to live.

"If you can pull out plan off I'll get you a get out of jail free card, kid," Sullivan promised. Ethan grinned. He nodded and said his thanks as he tripped over the chair he'd been sitting in and stumbled towards the door. Sullivan watched Ethan leave. Whatever Marsh and the McQuaid brothers were planning would soon fall into his lap as soon as he got Marsh out of the way.

He sat back in his hard backed, wooden chair; one day soon, he decided, he'd have a nice, swivel, leather chair and be calling the shots…

..Soon.

**0000**

Marsh thought this was something out of an episode of Get Smart; without fail he watched the weekly episode every Saturday. And that's where he got the idea to invest in some bugs and keep an eye on everything his teachers were doing in their office. This is how he was able to blackmail Sullivan into being his little bitch with his weeklong affair with the secretary. He wondered why he'd hired such an airhead, he couldn't see any woman getting hot and bothered by Sullivan, but for one reason or another he could. And Marsh was glad to keep it at that.

Marsh listened with the air of a portable radio; which through radio waves could connect to the bugs in the Sullivan's office. All he had to do was pick a number on the dial and he'd be able to listen to anyone in the office. The draw back was that he couldn't use the system all over the school; the radio waves had a limited ten-foot range. Still, he had a bunch of things to hold over the heads of his staff and that was usually enough, but this time is different.

Sullivan was going to do something, and his little game with Ethan wasn't what worried him. Nope, Sullivan was possibly planning murder. Marsh frowned and fingered his tie; he had to get Sullivan first before he ended up in a pine box and six feet under. He had plans, the PS thing he had going on was going to pay off. He could just taste it. And he wasn't going to let Sullivan ruin it.

**0000**

Ethan didn't give one thought to the plan of planting the dope on the McQuaids brothers until after he'd secured said dope and had paid twenty dollars for it. He'd whistled as he walked away with the dope in his pocket, making for the dorms, but that wouldn't be smart would it? he couldn't help but ask himself. He had to think this through. It was one thing to have and idea, it was a whole other thing to actually do it.

First off, there were far too many kids who'd snitched if scared enough by the McQuaids. Night wouldn't work either because they'd hear the squeaking of their lockers. He could just put it under their pillows, but if they found it before Sullivan's carefully planned drug bust – they could get rid of the evidence before it was found.

And if he did it too soon; he'd tip his hand. He couldn't let them find out about this until it was too late for them to do anything. Instead he turned and made his way down the front stairs and into the playground. He frowned as he scanned the crowd of kids for the McQuaids. Now he had to play at being a scared slave until he found the right opportunity to plant the drugs.

And that's when it hit him; he'd been arrested before for picking pockets. That's how he'd plant the dope on the McQuaids; and suddenly, being their slave for a week didn't sound too bad. He grinned as he finally spotted them under the big oak tree near the entrance of the schoolyard.

**0000**

Howard Moff glared and puffed angrily on the end of his cigarette. His boys sat around him playing cards or marbles as quietly as they could. They hadn't tried to get back at the McQuaids since they got their asses handed to them. It was embarrassing but no one dared tease them about it. The McQuaids hadn't usurped the gang's power over the schoolyard, they just left well enough alone, kept their own company and took care of problems as they arose.

"Are you plotting again?" the sudden appearance of his Lieutenant almost had Howard jumping out of his own skin. He cursed and puffed on his cigarette more to try and hide the fact that Zack had startled him. Zack smirked knowingly, and didn't say anything about it as he sat on the pick-knick table next to Howard.

"So, are you plotting your revenge Hamlet?" Zack asked again, this time with a reference that Howard sort of understood but only because Zack annoyingly explained Hamlet to him on several occasions.

"Yes, why?"

"Just wondering why you were staring at them for so long, someone might think you like them…in _that_ way…" he waggled his eyes mockingly.

"I am not sweet on either of them, and besides, if I were this would be totally different," Howard rolled his eyes. And while no one spoke up, all ears were wide open and listening to the bosses talk. Howard was known to take "lovers". Though he never called them that, and the only one he was semi-steady with was Zack.

"I kinda like the younger one," Zack said with a cluck of his tongue, "but there's no way to get him alone. He's always hanging out with the dumb one," and by that Zack meant Doug McQuaid but Howard wasn't so sure about that certain McQuaid being stupid. He certainly knew what he was doing if his spies were right about the information they'd dragged up on the two.

"Tommy is kinda cute, if you go for that sort of thing," Howard shrugged.

"Shut up, you know you want to tie him down and…" Zack didn't finish his sentence as they watched Ethan make his way towards the two boys that took over all of their conversations, to Zack, which felt like ages.

"Yeah," Howard agreed, "but I think he's too old for us," Howard replied.

"Whatever, you know you jack off to the fantasy anyway," Zack snorted.

Howard sighed, but admitted to himself that yeah, he'd thought about it.

"It's not like we're going to act on it though, so what's your deal?" Howard demanded. Zack shrugged.

"It's just like you to start something and not finish it," Howard glared.

"How about this for not finishing?" Zack smirked, unfazed by the insult, "Marsh is using the McQuaids to move his PS."

Howard crushed his cigarette between his fingers, it burned but he didn't care. "That was our deal!"

"I guess he found someone better," Zack replied.

Howard cursed a blue streak. "How can he double cross us like that?"

"Don't ask me," Zack yawned, the whole thing bored him, he'd rather be getting high than doing politics, but, sometimes these things had to be dealt with.

"We'll show them," Howard promised, "We'll make Marsh regret it…"

**0000**

**tbc**


	9. Chapter 9

**St. Joseph's School for boys**

**Rating – PG13/R**

**Pairings – non, totally gen (any hints don't count)**

**Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own.**

**Warnings – off screen murder, off screen molestation, violence, drug dealing…**

**Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out.**

**a/n – thanks for sticking with me through this. While I'd normally keep one chapter focused on what's going on with a certain group of people, this time things are an amorous board of cheese. I'm sorry for all the flip-flopping on this chapter. I just wasn't able to keep it focused at all.**

**A/N 2 - I thought the wait had been long enough, I'm not to ch 11 yet but ch 10 is on it's way. **

**0000**

**Chapter 9 – Contemplating Murder**

**0000**

Special Agent Rum considered himself a coffee connoisseur; he had drunk his fair share of bad coffee in his life as an FBI Agent. Some of those memorable because seconds later he'd caught his bad guy of the week/month/whatever. This one was bitter, very bitter. Some of that was because the pot had to be over two days old. And also, whoever made it, the janitor is his prime suspect, was horrible at it. There were far too many grounds in the coffee and far too much coffee.

He put the cup to the side and turned his attention to Judy, Ioke and Fuller; "There's good news and bad news," he announced and let himself smile about it.

"What's the bad news?" Judy sighed and slumped over the table.

"There, there," he shot Judy a small frown, "it's not that bad, really. You did catch yourself a serial killer," and then he smiled.

A beat of silence; Judy, Ioke and Fuller stared at him incredulously.

"We did?" Ioke and Judy asked in tandem, both surprised at this revelation.

"And you lost one," Rum added, "that's the bad news,"

"Explain it to us," Fuller demanded and crossed his arms.

"Well, the Faller and the Boogey Man are two totally different Serial Killers. The Boogey Man kidnaps kids and keeps them in his basement, torturing them until he is done with them and then he kills them. We haven't quite found out where he puts his bodies, but it's not in the forest," Rum explained, "the Faller comes around every year in the fall, obviously, and kills five kids and somehow all of those kids are connected by a single detail. Blue eye, blond hair, or maybe the girls that year all wore pink. Whatever, the point is that you won't look like total fools in the papers when this all comes out,"

"We're going to let the Police Chief handle that," Fuller muttered.

"Good idea, you don't want Jump Street to be blown sky high in the media, you'd be out of jobs then," Rum nodded his agreement.

"Wait," Ioke slapped the table, lightly enough to show he wasn't angry, but enough to get everyone's attention; "how do you know that guy is the Boogey Man?"

"We got a search warrant for the house, we didn't need it because the sister was kind enough to just let us in. She didn't really care. And we got everything we needed in the basement. Some Serial Killer's like to keep trophies you see, and Jerry Morgan kept pictures and home made movies. Those probably won't be released to the public, they're far too graphic," Rum frowned.

Judy caught that the pictures the Boogey Man had taken had disturbed even Rum. And he had seen a lot of disturbing things in his career.

"How bad?" she asked.

"I can't even describe what I saw…I mean, I'll have to for the trial, but…well…knives up rectums and…yeah…" he shrugged, "I might see the departments shrink when I get back to Washington," he admitted, but winked. It was half a joke. Judy tried to not look so saddened about what'd happen to the ten kids they hadn't even known had been murdered by that monster's hands.

"Anyway, I'll stick around for Faller, of course, he's my main job," Rum said and stood up. He put on his coat and hat and bid everyone a fare well as he left the Chapel.

"Okay, so it's not Morgan nor anyone inside the school," Judy sighed, "than who could it be?"

"That's our job to find out," Fuller said. He disappeared into his office while Judy and Ioke got back to work.

"First thing is first, establish a pattern," Ioke said. He approached their cork pin board and started taking everything off of it - pictures and reports.

"Let's start with a clean slate." He muttered.

**0000**

Doug and Tommy caught a quiet moment in the dorm five minutes before dinner; Tommy threw his worn, leather jacket on his bed before flopping down. He sighed tiredly. Doug sat down on his bed and watched Tommy.

"What's wrong?" he asked though he felt Tommy would much appreciate the silence.

"Marsh is what's wrong, and Sully and I've just got a feeling this thing is gonna blow up in our faces," Tommy sighed again.

Doug nodded, though Tommy didn't see because his eyes were closed. "We'll get through it," he tried to encourage.

"Marsh wants a meeting with Duke," Tommy replied. He'd used this particular cover for Blowfish before and Doug knew whom Tommy was talking about; in their line of work one mistake could get them killed and that is always a bad thing. And while this was part of their job that they dealt with day in and day out – this had been one of their longer cases and it was getting to both of them. Tommy especially since he had to deal directly with Marsh – Doug just had to manage the kids.

"I'm okay," Tommy said at length. One eye popped open to gaze at Doug. He nodded. Tommy was tough. They could get through this as long as they supported each other. But, that didn't mean that when this was over that Doug wasn't going to get skunk drunk and watch all the football games he'd missed over the past week.

**0000**

John Marsh satin his easy chair contemplating murder; it was no laughing matter, taking another person's life. It didn't matter that he detested Sullivan. What mattered was that if he was arrested and traced back to Sullivan's murder, he'd go to the pen for life. Despite the ramifications of this decision, he still knew he'd do it. He wasn't going to let Sullivan one up him, and he knew for a fact that Sullivan's only play was to kill before John cottoned onto his teacher's betrayal.

Well, in this vein of life John figured that he'd come upon many people willing to betray him; he'd probably have to kill them all, and it'd start with Sullivan. In order for him to build his drug empire he had to be willing to shed some blood for his dream. Ever since he was ten, when he had seen his father behind glass at the local jail, he knew he was going to get out of the ghetto and make himself a better life.

He sighed. He rose and walked about the small chamber; his suit was located in the "attic" of the school building. It was a series of rooms really; a sitting room, bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. All was orderly and in perfect condition, even if all the furniture had been here since the school was built. The furniture had been repaired often and possible re-upholstered accordingly. It was a mish-mash of seventies and sixties fashion. He hadn't the budget to re-do the place the way he wanted. And that was why he was determined to get this deal with Duke going.

He wasn't looking to take Duke right away though; he had to kill the one minion who would have been his Lieutenant. They could have done it together.

"What am I thinking," John laughed at himself, "of course I can't count on anyone," he grew grim. It'd take more than a few months to get to the place he wanted to be. But as soon as he got his feet under him, as soon as he was making more than two thousand a week – when he was making at least a hundred thousand a month – he was getting out of the teaching business.

At first he'd been convinced that becoming a teacher was the best thing; he could help kids and be their hero. And then he'd come to this school and saw worse than he had ever imagined. And he knew he couldn't do it any longer. He couldn't put up with those bitch ass punks who never tried and always failed. Those kids didn't know how good they had it at home and then they had to go and ruin it. He'd have loved to have a father around, and these kids, well most of them, did. And they didn't care one wit for the man who was teaching them how to be grown men.

He'd have killed for it.

He took three more rounds in the room before sitting back down in the chair; letting all thoughts of his old man, who'd died in prison and been buried on the prison grounds, out of his mind.

Strangulation. He decided, would suit a rat like Sullivan quite well.

**0000**

Blowfish – no, Duke – flattened down the lapel on his – borrowed – Italian suit. Tommy had some guts to call this meeting. He frowned. At least Marsh wasn't tagging along, he wanted some time alone with his boys. That, however, didn't mean that he wasn't going to fuck around with Marsh just a little bit. He'd seen the two kids who followed Tommy and Doug to the safe house.

The boys looked contrite when they realized they'd just led the enemy to Duke; Doug stood in front of Tommy protectively. Duke just hoped that the kids would get closer so that this whole farce wouldn't be an exercise in stupidity. He fiddled with his tie and when he saw – out of his peripheral eye site – he went into action.

"I didn't think the two of you's had it in ya," Duke said, his accent thick as he worked up his anger. "You belong to me, not that bastard who thinks that he can get in on my business without paying his dues," Duke strutted forward.

"We didn't change teams, boss man," Doug said. He acted slightly worried. The kids were riveted at the window and with it open just an inch they could hear every word that was going on. Duke kept his mind on the roll he had to play.

"How do I know that, Doug?" Duke asked grimly.

"We'd never do that to ya, Duke," Tommy spoke up, "we owe our lives to ya, we take that seriously. You know we do."

Duke chuckled. He held out his hands placed one palm on the side of Doug and Tommy's face. "I know, out of everyone that works for me you two have done the best job. You have never questioned me. You's been the best to me. You like my own sons. Maybe that's why I worry about ya associating with Marsh. Maybe I don't trust him to keep his hands to himself…" Duke trailed off and looked each of his boys in the eye.

Tommy blanched a bit but didn't say anything while Doug looked just slightly confused, that is until he caught the look on Tommy's face and then worried.

"You go back and tell him that we're gonna have dinner on Friday at Sonia's Italian Restaurant on Brook and Third," Duke ordered. Doug and Tommy nodded, knowing better than to say anything.

Duke patted them gently on their cheeks before sending them away.

The two boys outside the window took off running before anyone could see them. Tommy waited a few seconds before going over to check.

"All clear," he informed Doug and Blowfish.

"Did I do a good job?" Blowfish asked hopefully.

"You were brilliant," Doug reassured him.

"Yeah, that was good," Tommy agreed.

"Now, lets got get some food before we go back," Doug said, "I am so tired of the slap they serve at that god awful school,"

"I am totally with you," Tommy laughed.

**0000**

Ethan looked worried as he watched the front gates for Tommy and Doug; he'd been waiting for an hour since he'd gotten the message from Mr. Marsh that Mr. Sullivan wanted to see the boys. He wasn't a total idiot and so when he'd seen Howard and Zack run into the yard and then make a beeline for Mr. Marsh's office he knew that something was up.

The McQuaids arrived half an hour later; laughing and joking. Ethan had never seen them so happy. He made it a point to sneak off school grounds some time soon. He interrupted their chatter when they came to the stairs.

"Mr. Sullivan wants to see you," he said. Doug gave him a nod and then waved him off. He was free of service for a while and he took it. He disappeared around the corner of the building and then lent against the wall. He'd brush up against Tommy slightly as he'd made his way past them. He'd been able to deposit the drugs.

He hoped it worked.

**0000**

Tommy was out of gum and so went to get some, only to pull out a bag of dope. His back was facing the secretary and so he dumped the bag in the potted plant by Mr. Sullivan's door. He went back a second time to get a piece of gum. Doug pushed the door open with out knocking.

He put out an arm to keep Tommy away from the door – of which Tommy knocked into without thinking – and his whole demeanor changed. Tommy wasn't able to see around Doug's bulk but he knew something was wrong.

"What…?" Tommy asked as Doug closed the door.

"Oh, Mrs. Secretary," Doug called, "you should call the cops," and then he grabbed Tommy and dragged him away. The secretary, curious as to why the two had backed off when they never showed any sign of caution, decided to see for herself.

She wasn't expecting to see Mr. Sullivan hanging from the ceiling fan* - dead.

She let out a scream of fright.

**0000**

When the police investigators did show up, Mr. Marsh did an excellent job of keeping their suspicions off Doug and Tommy; the two were near by trying to eavesdrop. And thankfully the Investigators weren't some they knew for work and so wouldn't be ruining their cover. They were in too deep to give up now.

Tommy garnered from the talk that Mr. Sullivan had – apparently – committed suicide. Once of the CSI guy's was a bit loud when he announced a note had been found. They went through the office as thoroughly as they could before taping it off. The Lead Investigator gave his card to Mr. Marsh and then in mid afternoon – five ours after Doug and Tommy had discovered Mr. Sullivan dead – they left the premises.

"McQuaid's!" Marsh called for them once the police were gone. The two had been sitting on the stairs outside the office just in case. Other kids gathered around trying to also see and hear something but ran off as soon as they heard Marsh yelling. When he was mad he'd either spank someone or put them to work and no one wanted to go through one of his work punishments.

The two made their way to Marsh's office.

"Close the door," Marsh ordered flatly. Doug did so. He and Tommy stood, waiting for Marsh to speak.

"How did your meeting go with your boss?" Marsh asked, now slightly calmer though Tommy could tell that the wrong word would set him off.

"Great, just great. He's willing to deal but he wants to meet you for dinner this Friday night," Tommy replied, "Sonia's Italian Restaurant at eight."

Marsh put the appointment in his book. He cleverly made an acronym out of the restaurant's title. SIR could mean anything to anybody.

"Did you see Sullivan before he died?" Marsh asked. Both Tommy and Doug blinked at him. That was a fast change of topic. And they were masters at that.

"Er…no" Doug shook his head, "he told Ethan he wanted to see us and that's when we got back from seeing Duke."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed.

"All right," Marsh nodded, "but remember I kept the cops off your asses in the future. It could have gone badly, what with the man slaughter and all," he shrugged.

Tommy and Doug quickly adopted worried/thankful expressions.

_If only he knew the truth,_ Tommy thought to himself as they quickly made their escape.

**0000**

There wasn't a good place in the school to talk and so as soon as they could they hopped the fence and made for the woods. They waited a bit as soon as they got into the brush to see if anyone was following them. They saw Ethan snoop around, but then go back towards the building. Howard and Zack also came around, but didn't look towards the woods at all. If the boys were looking for them, they had been able to sneak out unseen.

Still, they waded further into the woods until they found the Oak tree they had previously been at a week or so before.

"What do you think?" Doug asked.

"Are you all right?" Tommy asked.

Unfortunately they had asked these questions at the same time and a semi-awkward silence rose between them. Tommy slipped his do-rag off and ran his fingers through oily, black hair. He needed to take a shower soon. There never seemed to be a good time for that though.

"I've seen someone about Mom," Doug offered, "it's not as bad as it used to be."

"That's…good," Tommy nodded. "I'm glad."

"Anyway…do you think it was suicide?" Doug asked.

"I don't know, I wasn't able to see anything," Tommy raised a suspicious eyebrow at Doug.

"What? So I wanted to spare you from seeing something horrible, is that so bad of me?" Doug frowned.

Tommy rolled his eyes; "the longer we do this the more you act the big brother. It's obvious sometimes, not that I mind since I am an only child. Still, you'd be better off answering your own question since you actually saw Sullivan."

"We could ask Fuller to get the files for us," Doug suggested.

"We'll go do that. I'd rather shower at the Church than here," Tommy muttered.

And since it was technically Saturday and they didn't have any classes to worry about/skip, it was as good an idea as any.


	10. Chapter 10 - Interlude

St. Joseph's School for boys

Rating – PG13/R

Pairings – non, totally gen (any hints don't count)

Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own.

Warnings – off screen murder, off screen molestation, violence, drug dealing…and sexual advances of a certain nature. So this is not for children.

Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out.

A/N – I don't know how long this will carry on. Hopefully it'll end at about fifteen chapters, but if not look for at least twenty. Also, I am abusing questions marks along with explanation marks and I know there is some rule about not using them both at the end of a sentence, but…I'm ignoring that rule.

**0000**

Chapter 10 – Interlude

**0000**

No one was any closer to catching the Faller when Tom and Doug showed up late that afternoon. They barley said anything to any body as Tom made for the locker rooms and Doug for Fuller's office. Not even Rum was able to introduce himself that fast. Judy, however, noticed him following Tom's moves closely; which put her on edge.

Now she decided to take a second look at the guy; today he was dressed in a khaki suit with a polo shirt, very casual but then again they didn't normally wear business attire to work. Either they were always in something comfortable (jeans and a t-shirt) or a disguise of something or other. Rum, also, didn't look out of place in the Chapel either.

He gave her a wink and that was when she realized she'd been staring. But, if it kept Tom safe, than she didn't care. She also started to wonder if Rum really was who he said he was. What if he was an imposter? The New York FBI department might not even know if he said he was from Washington and his ID looked real enough. They were so used to seeing badges and everything it probably didn't register to look for inconsistencies of a faked FBI badge.

Well – this would call for some investigation but she knew she had to go about it on the sly. If there was nothing than she wouldn't want everyone to know that she suspected Rum in the first place. And at that, she didn't even know what she suspected him about either. Was he the Faller? Well…she couldn't go that far. But he was pretty interested in Tom – so…it bore checking out.

Judy turned back to the computer, but she didn't miss watching Rum throw away his foam coffee cup and then making for the locker rooms.

She glared at her screen. Tom was a big boy; she knew. He could take care of himself.

**0000**

Tom closed his eyes and reveled in the silence; he was safe here. He didn't have to worry about silly laws getting in the way of his job, or private life. It also felt good to have a real shower. _A real, hot, shower_! Tom could have danced. The water at the school is always so cold that it was surprising no one caught sickness because of it.

The steam drifted in the air and fogged up the mirrors. The showerhead he picked spluttered and the stream of water hit his skin hard enough to make it prickle. Tom didn't care though; he was going to enjoy it.

Not long later he noted the opening and closing of the door but that could just have been Doug coming in to take advantage of the locker rooms before they headed back out to the school. Which was their plan anyway. It was just awkward trying to shower when you had to worry about fifty or more boys walking in; sure, they all had the same equipment, but it could go badly for them in court. And that was one thing they never compromised while on a case.

Tom was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't expect the water to suddenly be turned off and then being shoved into the wall. He let out a cry of pure surprise as he tried to push off; forgetting completely that he was naked, or standing on slippery tile; he turned to face his attacker. The man was unknown to him. Tom thought he'd seen the man in the Chapel as he and Doug came to give their reports. His suit was getting wet as the grappled. Tom pushed him back far enough to get the taller man to topple over the bench that sat between the showers and the lockers.

The man fell and hit his head on the locker, which put him out cold in the floor. The sound of which reverberated about the empty room and then the door banged open. Tom grabbed a large towel to wrap around himself; it was one thing to fend off an attacker naked, but he was insanely protective of his dignity and being seen naked (after the whole jail thing) was absolutely not going to happen.

"Tom!" Ioke was first through the door, "what happened? Are you okay?"

"That guy came out of no where and attacked me!" Tom pointed at the man on the floor. Ioke took one look and then passed a hand through his hair.

"The Captain ain't gonna like this," he muttered.

"What? Why?" Tom asked.

"That guy you knocked out is from the FBI," Ioke replied.

Tom cursed a blue streak.

**0000**

His hair still wet from his shower, Tom was dressed in his McQuaid outfit with the added bonus of a towel. He sat in Fuller's office and watched the man dress down Rum who didn't look at all sorry for attacking Tom in the locker room shower just half an hour earlier.

"I want to know why you thought that was an appropriate thing to do!?" Fuller demanded.

"He's the Faller," Rum replied.

Tom and Fuller just blinked at the man.

"Are you crazy!?" Fuller banged his desk. "Tom is too young to be the Faller! This pattern has existed ten years before he was ever born!"

Rum pursed his lips, turned and looked at Tom who stared at him incredulously. "I suppose you're right," he shrugged.

Fuller growled.

"So…ah….sorry…?"

"Sorry doesn't cut it!" Fuller banged his desk again, things went rattling every which way and he was about to say more when Tom stood up; "Coach, it's fine."

"It's not fine," Fuller turned his glare onto Tom who just didn't care any more.

"Look, I don't care, it was a mistake," he shrugged, "and it was easier to get to me in a place I felt safe, let's call it a life lesson and forget about it, please?" he bit his lip and put all of his effort an effective puppy-dog look that he hoped would work.

Fuller was immune to this look, but because he knew Tom was tired and was still working on a case without much of a break, he let this one slide and decided that letting Tom think that he fell for that look – at least once – wouldn't be such a bad trade off.

"Okay," he sighed, "but if you lay your hands on another one of my people I will knock you out flat, you here me Rum?" he pointed his finger at the man.

"Yes sir!"

Tom sighed, well, at least that was the end of that!

_**0000**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – None**_

_**Warnings – Murder (off screen), molestation (off screen) violence, and sexual things, so not a story for children. **_

_**Disclaimer – I own the copywrite of this story and all the OC's. What I don't own are the character's of 21 JS. I am merely borrowing them for mine own amusement. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; hot on the trail of a Serial Killer, they soon find themselves embroiled in a huge drug ring instead. It is now up to Judy and Ioke to find the Killer while Doug and Tom take on the drug lord. **_

_**A/N – I apologize for this taking so long. I have not abandoned this story even though I've started a new RK fic. If anyone reading this is into Rurouni Kenshin please check out my other fic "Heart of Tokyo" which is actually a re-write of a very early fic called "The Samurai of Tokyo". I know I probably shouldn't plug a fic here, but…I figure why not? Enjoy the show! Oh, and I may allude to incest, but it's a really little comment and has nothing to do with the story. **_

_**0000**_

"Dude!" Doug whistled; "those bruises look bad." He and Tommy stood in the empty locker room back at St. Joseph's. Tommy stood before the mirror looking at the mass of bruising along his back and side. It was a nasty black, purple and sickly yellow colour and hurt like hell. In all his years of being alive he'd never gotten beat up this badly, even as an undercover Officer.

Well, Rum did surprise him; though, the Chapel should have been a safe place. That just taught him how unsafe even your own territory could be. It was a shame because he knew know that he'd be too paranoid to enjoy a shower at the Chapel, again, for a long time. If ever.

"Well, it was bound to happen," Tom muttered. They didn't worry about anyone seeing them, or the bruising, they had the door locked and the rest of the kids were supposedly sleeping. But no one messed with them and they kept their voices down.

"Okay," Tommy whispered and walked as close to Doug as he could, "I'm gonna go down to the basement and see what's up," he said.

"And I'll take the fire escape to the roof, I think there's an in to the attic." Doug replied.

"One hour and then we meet up here, okay?"

"Let's do it," Doug agreed.

Softly they high-fived each other before Doug went to the window in one of the stalls. Its latch was broken and he was able to push it up enough to be able to crawl through (which was a feat, Tommy never thought he'd be able to fit through.) and was gone. Tommy also had his own way to the basement. He didn't know whose idea it was but the locked door in the bathroom led to a stairwell. All he had to do was pick the lock and he had a way in.

The stairwell was dark and smelled musty. Maybe no one had use for it in a long time. He felt cobwebs rub against his face and raised his hand to clear it away. Okay, first sign that things were probably gonna go bad had to be cobwebs. Besides that, he had arachnophobia. He took a deep breath and pressed on. He'd do his best to ignore the spiders. If there were any, he hoped there weren't.

He counted seventeen steps and then came to the bottom. There was another door but this one wasn't locked and he poked his head around it. Everything was quiet. The hot water heater and the furnace were out because Marsh didn't want to waste any more money than he had too, and so it was freezing. Tommy felt Goosebumps on his arms from the cold but pressed on.

There was actually a single light and he realized that he'd entered the basement without checking thoroughly; if the door had creaked (which it hadn't) he'd have been a dead man. He admonished himself to take more precaution when sneaking around; otherwise he'd end up dead.

He ducked behind some large boxes and snuck towards the light. The sound of a typewriter started up and with all the clanking and heavy tapping, his footsteps wouldn't be heard - _Thank God for tender mercies,_ he thought – he tried to get as close as he could without giving his position away.

He popped his head up to look over a big box, and that's when he saw Marsh sitting at a desk. Around him are all the implements one needed to make any sort of synthesized drug. And on the typewriter – for a moment Tommy couldn't believe his profound luck and Marsh's stupidity – was the recipe for Pure Snow.

0000

Doug, meanwhile, was having no luck finding anything at all. The attic was empty and smelled horrible. He still inspected it though. All he found was a red leather journal; without a flash light he couldn't read it, and so he took it back to the bathroom in order to see what secrets it held and hoped Tommy was okay.

0000

Doug tapped his foot, his watch read Ten O'clock. He knew Tommy wasn't going to take any chances in getting caught, but he was thirty minutes late and if he didn't come back soon Doug would go after him.

It was right after that thought that he heard footsteps from the stairwell. He'd been keeping watch at the top all this time, while reading the journal. It was a good find and he knew Tommy would be surprised by the contents. In fact he felt a bit surprised at himself. He'd read one or two entries in their entirety. And on one hand he wasn't bothered by the grisly detail, but then he probably should have been – these were kids he was reading about – it was horrible stuff.

Tommy appeared and they softly closed the door and locked it up again. Then Doug handed Tommy the journal. "What's this?" Tommy asked, shooting Doug a perplexed glance.

"It's our guy," Doug replied softly. "Read the first entry."

Tommy opened the book;

_January 5__th__, 1976. _

_I saw him at the park. He has to be at least seven years old. He's blond and blue eyed, just how I like them. I was able to take him away when his Mommy wasn't looking. That bitch will never see Little Johnny again. _

_ January 6__th__, 1976._

_I killed him this morning. He's in bed waiting for me to hide him in the woods with the others. _

_ January 7__th__, 1976. _

_I don't know if I am pushing my luck. But I took Little Johnny's younger brother, Clive. I can't believe that their mother thought her youngest would be safe in their own back yard, I mean, she all ready lost one son…and now I took the other. _

_ January 8__th__, 1976. _

_I've spent more time with Little Clive. He's just two years old. A little young, but I'll put him with his brother anyway, siblings aught to stay together. _

"Holy shit."

"You tellin' me?" Doug snorted. "I think that's the Faller."

"Where are we gonna keep this?" Tommy asked. Doug took the book from him and then went to a stall that had an air vent above it. He carefully pushed the vent away and then put the book up where it'd be supported but where no one could see it. He then replaced the vent.

"We'll have to smuggle it out, somehow," Doug said as he made sure everything was as it should be so that no one noticed the vent moving and hence find their prize.

"Those poor kids, we have to get a message to Ioke and Judy about it," Tommy replied.

"We will, what did you find?" Doug asked.

"Marsh is such an idiot, he wrote up the recipe to PS, and he also has a lab down there. He can make anything, Meth or coke and PS," Tommy shook his head.

"This guy must be serious," Doug muttered.

"Yeah well, let's get out of here before someone comes' knocking," Tommy replied.

Quietly, they turned the lights off and slipped back into their dorm and beds. Both knew they were being watched, but what could two brothers do while locked up in the bathroom for nearly two hours anyway? Not smoking dope, that's for sure.

0000

Marsh wasted no time in getting Tommy McQuaid into his office for their daily meeting. Marsh never thought he'd go for under aged kids, he had to admit that Tommy was beautiful in a classic sense. His wavy, black hair and dark, mud brown eyes which are so expressive. If society didn't have a thing against this sort of desire, he'd pounce on that right this very second. However, he was may things, but a pedophile wasn't one of them.

"So, Tommy, have you had contact the Duke yet?" Marsh asked nonchalantly.

Tommy shook his head in the negative; "why?" he asked.

"I think you're a great kid for this sort of business, but I think Duke doesn't see this in you. I think he just see's a dumbass he can take advantage of. I know he did you and your brother a favor. But, he can't give you what I can give you," Marsh folded his hands and put them on top of the desk, he lent forwards and smiled at Tommy.

He shot Marsh an incredulous glare; "what? A dick?" Tommy asked rudely. Marsh chuckled, this kid was something.

"No, no," Marsh shook his head, "I want you to come and work for me," he moved so that he sat back in his char.

Tommy took a breath through his teeth, he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck; trying to come off as worried, scared and almost wanting to do it. He really had to give Marsh what he wanted, though, because he couldn't see another way into the man's good graces to give him the evidence he needed to take him to court.

"The Duke did a solid for me and Dougie," Tommy mumbled, "if I left the Duke, Doug would kill me."

"Not kill, and I'd move you out of that dorm, you wouldn't have to see him," Marsh replied.

"What!?" Tommy cried out, almost in real surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. Separate them? He couldn't do that.

"Nonononono…that's not…I mean…"

"Doug wouldn't harm you, not after all the two of you went through," Marsh tried to sound reassuring. He came off more like desperate. Tommy didn't point that out.

"It's just…if you separate us he'd know something was up, he might suspect me of…batting for the other team, so to say, I think you should leave us together. I'll work for you on the down low. Duke and Doug don't need to know about it," Tommy tried to talk his way out of it as fast as he could.

"I don't think the Duke is as powerful as you say," Marsh mumbled not at all happy. Tommy was his favorite after all.

"It's just that…well…our Mom got into a bad place. Really bad. And the Duke helped her through re-had and got her a job. He even took care of our abusive Dad. He got us out of the hood and into the suburbs and has made sure we've been okay. We ain't on the good and narrow path and my charge was before we ever met The Duke. But both Mom and Doug say we should do as he tells us, we owe him a lot," Tommy lied through his teeth.

"I'm asking a lot of you, aren't I?" Marsh didn't look happy, but he didn't look dangerous either.

"Look, I'm flattered that you want me, no one has ever wanted just me. I'm always Doug McQuaids younger brother," Tommy felt his cheeks flush and looked away. Truly embarrassed.

"Well, how about you think on it?" Marsh suggested, "I mean, maybe cutting out and making a name for yourself is a good thing. After all, you could always make a Deal with Duke. Just tell him that you'll give him a bigger cut of whatever you make. That way, if he's getting paid, he won't care,"

Tommy took that in and tried to look as if he were really thinking about it. And then he sighed. He'd never get close enough to see Marsh's operation without permission from the guy. Sure, he could sneak down there through the bathroom door, but he could be busted and he didn't want to push his luck any more than he all read had.

"Okay," he finally agreed, "but, don't tell Duke or Doug, please?" Tommy practically begged.

Marsh smiled, pleased with himself and wishing fervently that Tommy was legal. He wanted to kiss the younger man right now upon the agreement of this deal. Well, he'd still wait. He wasn't going to give in to the desire. He may be a drug dealer, but he wasn't going to lower himself any further than he had too.

Yes, he could wait.

"Good, and don't worry, Duke and your brother won't know a thing from me." He promised.

0000

Tommy and Doug met up over lunch. Morning classes had been boring and they'd both goofed off quietly behind the teacher's back. Now they sat in the corner of the lunchroom. Evan's week of being their slave was done and over with and he'd made sure to keep away from them ever since. Howard and his gang were making eyes at them though. They ignored the children.

"What went down?" Doug asked. Today was tuna salad sandwiches with corn and mashed potato's. The food was a sickly grey colour and the fish smelled off. They ate it though.

"He stole me from you and Duke," Tommy replied.

"So you'll be able to see what he's actually doing in the basement, right?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, and maybe get some Intel on Howard and Zack, they work for Marsh too," Tommy replied.

"They're probably just the drug runners," Doug muttered.

"Yeah, well…I'll know when Marsh wants me to see what he's doing, try and act like always though. I'm keeping it a secret from you and Duke,"

"What'd you tell him anyway?"

"Only that the Duke helped our mom off her coke habit and got us a nice place in the suburbs and got rid of our abusive dad," Tommy shrugged.

Doug nodded, that was the usual back ground on kids like them.

0000

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

_**St. Joseph's School for Boys**_

_**Fandom – 21 Jump Street**_

_**Pairings – None**_

_**Warnings – Murder (off screen), molestation (off screen) violence, and sexual things, so not a story for children. **_

_**Disclaimer – I own the copywrite of this story and all the OC's. What I don't own are the character's of 21 JS. I am merely borrowing them for mine own amusement. **_

_**Summary – The McQuaid brothers are back; hot on the trail of a Serial Killer, they soon find themselves embroiled in a huge drug ring instead. It is now up to Judy and Ioke to find the Killer while Doug and Tom take on the drug lord. **_

_**A/N – Finally we get a pov from the SK, and Tommy gets a memo out of the blue, all I have to say on that is…the plot said so, ;)**_

_**0000**_

Bright and early Monday morning when Judy turned up for work, a small package lay innocently on her desk. She carefully opened it to find a red, leather bound note book that looked pretty old and weathered, and a note from the boys.

It read:

_WE THINK THIS BELONGES TO THE FALLER. WE FOUND IT IN THE SCHOOL. WE DON'T KNOW THE CONNECTION. T & D_

Judy put the note aside and then picked up the journal and flipped through the pages. Some of the entries were detailed and others not so much but this might just be the break they needed in catching their Serial Killer. And the boys were right, they'd thought from the beginning that the Faller was somehow connected to the St. Joseph's School; and then they had changed that theory because they couldn't find any connections. The diary, however, put everything into a new light. But it was only about the atrocities the Faller put his victims through; there was nothing (well, as far as she had read) about his background.

"What made him this way…?" Judy muttered to herself.

Ioke reached over her shoulder and took the book from her hands; "he's just crazy."

"Obviously," Judy rolled her eyes, "but why? Why kill innocent children?"

"Something must have triggered all of the murder sprees," Ioke replied.

"I wish we had a better lead, as far as I can tell this dairy is all about his past victims,"

"It may lead us somewhere," Ioke said as he pages through the yellowed book. "Maybe the dumping grounds he uses now is a new one, maybe this'll lead us to other bodies, maybe there's a clue he left accidentally," Ioke suggested.

"Let go through it carefully," Judy nodded.

_**0000**_

"The time line goes from 76' to 86'. That's eleven years between murder sprees," Judy said. She and Ioke stood in front of a push-pin board with an outline of the time line with as many victim's names and dates of known death as they could find in the diary and corroborate with their own files. They had to send a notice to homicide and missing persons to find other matches amongst the missing children that fit the profile the Faller preferred for those years.

So far, they had been able to match ten missing girls to the Faller's victims he talked about in his diary. It his Judy then, twenty girls under the age of ten had died horrible deaths; and their bodies would never be found. The Faller had kept that information to himself.

She wiped her tired eyes with the sleeve of her shirt; when it came away wet, she realized that she was crying for the lost children.

"Let's take a break…" Ioke said gently and led her away for a walk down the block to the closest coffee shop.

_**0000**_

Evan lent against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest glaring at Howard and his lackey Zack. The other two were smoking and the second hand smoke made Evan want to cough a few times. It also stank. He couldn't believe he was even in the same room as these two losers. Marsh is crazy if he thinks they'd work together. He only ever called them together for one thing, orders, or to introduce someone new to their group.

They waited in the basement in the dead of night; it was raining toads and frogs outside and every so often the booming of thunder heralded the storm overhead. The boys didn't speak but eyes each other in the chill of the basement. Evan glanced at the wall clock, it was half past one in the morning when he heard the door upstairs open and two pairs of footsteps thundered down the stairs.

"Boys! Glad you can make it," Marsh grinned at them; behind him, and to their surprise Tommy McQuaid stood behind Marsh chomping away on some bubble gum. He looked smug and grinned at them as if they were all friends.

"What's that bastard doing here?" Howard asked.

"Hey!" McQuaid pouted but he didn't sound as if he took too much offence at Howard's comment.

"He's gotten us into business with the most important Drug Lord in this town, and I don't want to hear any complaints, now…tomorrow I'm starting distribution and here is what I need you kids to do…"

_**0000**_

"We can't get them arrested this time," Doug sighed.

"Nope," Tommy yawned. He had to stop with all this staying up at all hours of the night. They were in the bathroom again showering. They'd search for any bugs in case Marsh was that paranoid and the door was locked so that they could shower in peace.

"That's probably a good thing, we can't give out hand away too soon," Doug mutered.

"All the places they're delivering PS to is to our people undercover," Tommy replied, "or didn't you get that memo?"

"I guess I missed it," Doug shrugged.

"That's because I pay more attention than you," Tommy shot back. Doug let out a playful growl before he pulled Tommy away from the cold, running water and put him into a chokehold so that he could easily nugie Tommy's damp, black hair. Tommy giggled and played along.

_**0000**_

They were getting close; too close.

It wasn't easy to catch children as he'd once done over the past decade. They were making his needs practically impossible. Parents stuck close to their children and even the Teacher's on the playground were keeping a better watch out that they used too.

He growled.

His hands were trembling, it was a good thing he was stopped at a stop sign or he might have a traffic accident otherwise. He took a deep, steadying breath. He had to kill. Soon…or…it'd get worse. He didn't want to take any chances, but he didn't see any other way to calm the demon inside him. He didn't know what led him to be this way; his mother had been the best in the world and loved him dearly. His father was a hard worker and required a lot of him, but that was par for the course. So why did he kill?

He had been searching for the answer to that question all of his life. It had started with his sisters little kitten. She found the thing nailed to a tree in the park. He never fessed up to it, even though she always suspected and even accused it of him on several occasions when she was particularly pissed of with anything he did to her.

Once the street was clear he continued driving; his eyes flicked from one side to the other, looking for an easy victim. This one had to be easy and it'd change everything he ever did, but; maybe it was about time to change his MO.

_**0000**_

Rum stood with Ioke and Judy looking at the crime scene. The little girl hung from the tree with wires like she was a marionette doll. He puffed on a cigarette as he took the scene in.

"This can't be our guy, can it?" Judy asked.

"Maybe…" Rum shrugged.

"Why are you here anyway?" Ioke turned to the man, "after the shit you pulled in the locker room with Hanson," he frowned.

"It was a test," Rum sighed, "I needed to shake him up. If he was really the Faller he'd have made a mistake, it's common knowledge that some Serial Killer's like to be at the scene of the crime when it's discovered, or even be as close to the investigation as possible. They'll volunteer to find a missing person, or they try to get close to the family. It'd be very nice to be an actual police officer involved in the case. That way they can keep track of how close we are to finding them," Rum explained.

"That doesn't mean we trust you," Ioke frowned.

"That's fine, FBI is never trusted anyway," Rum replied, not at all bothered by this fact.

"Now, I say the girl fits in nicely with our current victim profile. He even dressed her up because that pretty little thing she's wearing can't have been what she wore to school," Rum pointed at the body that still hung from the tree. In order to keep the scene in tact, and to keep the Press from having a field day, he'd ordered blue tarps to be put up so as to keep a bit of privacy for the little girl.

"It looks like a pageant dress," Judy put in. And she was right. The pink dress their victim wore was not something a parent picked up from the store in a rush from the toy isle. It looked more like a professional had made it either for a pageant or a dance recital. It was a pink skirt with a white underskirt that made it into a tutu; the top was of the same pink material with puffy, short sleeves. The most garish makeup had been put on her, it was like she was a version of Joker if he had an insane daughter. Her mouth, however was slit and the blood almost blended in with the dark, red, lipstick.

"We need to do something," Judy pursed her lips.

"We'll have to open a tip line," Ioke sighed.

"That's gonna suck," Rum muttered.

_**0000**_

The news coverage was a real bitch; for years he'd been reported around the area as the Faller because he killed in the fall every five years or so. But the press thought there was a new serial killer on the scene, the Puppet Master. It was such a better name than the Faller and he sighed in happiness. Yes, this was the sort of attention he should have gotten but never achieved. He had first thought that leaving her _**body**_ out there in the open all made up was a mistake; but it turned out to be the most brilliant idea he'd ever had. Now, all he had to do was find the next perfect outfit and the next perfect victim to make into a puppet.

He wondered if he'd ever find the answers as to why he killed, or even as to why he'd suddenly turned everything upside down. Looking back on it now, he killed children because they were easy to kidnap, but no matter how they looked – he always envisioned killing Katy. That little bitch fucked everything up between him and their parents. Now no one in the family wanted anything to do with him.

It was her fault.

And maybe, it was time to get her…to take care of the actual problem.

_**TBC**_


	13. Chapter 13

St. Joseph's School for boys

Rating – PG13/R

Pairings – None, not even canon, this is all friendship.

Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own. I am also not making any money off this fan fic.

Warnings – off screen murder, off screen molestation, violence, drug dealing…and sexual advances of a certain nature. So this is not for children. Also, nothing sexual is going to happen in this fic. I'm sorry, but I've known that from the beginning.

Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out.

A/N - I am sorry for not updating this for such a long time. The couple I was working for as a home care assistant both passed way in early May. The husband on the 5th and the wife on the 18th and I a) just haven't been feeling like writing and b) forgot entirely about this story. Also, this fic is supposed to bridge the gap between Tom's leaving the Jump Street Program for the DEA. I've always thought he'd go off and own his own bowling hall but whatever. I don't know if I am going to write the story that was supposed to come next. I wish they hadn't killed Tom and Doug in the JS movie. This is why I refuse to watch it. Refuse. Okay. Please enjoy the story and I'm sorry it's so short. I will try to get it done by the end of this month.

_**0000**_

Fuller sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose; the crime scene photos were the goriest he'd ever seen in his many years in the NYPD. The girl had been identified as twelve-year-old Meghan Stauffer. She had just split with her friends to go home at a stop sign that they met at in the morning and was their halfway point from all of their homes. The other girls didn't see what happened to Meghan. Hope Palsgrove had called later that evening and that was when Mrs. Stauffer knew her daughter was missing. She had thought since Meghan hadn't come home that she'd been with her friends and forgot to call her. And then, they found the body in the nearby park.

"…no one saw anything because the fences are so high on either side of the street because that's the backyards of both neighborhoods," Judy was saying. "There are three dogs and only one neighbor remembers hers going absolutely crazy and she remembers going out to yell at her dog and hearing scuffling noises, she thought it was the neighborhood hoodlums and got her dog inside."

"But it very well could have been Meghan being kidnapped off the street," Fuller hypothesized.

"Meghan would have known to fight and make as much noise as she possibly could," Ioke said, "the mother was very adamant about that. She put Meghan through drills, and even keeps an eye on what pedophile is getting out of jail and moving to their neighborhood. Her husband is head of the Neighborhood Watch even. This happening to that family is a shock to everyone who lives on that block," Ioke put another report down on Fuller's desk. It was all about the family, the neighborhood and anyone Ioke thought was suspicious and worth checking out.

Rum moved forward; a hand in one pocket, and fingering a cigarette. "It's the same man," he said. "My people did an in-depth autopsy and besides all the new factors, the old one's are there. She was raped before death, and most mortem. So far we've only had a theory that he did this, because all the victims you've given us have been too decomposed to do anything with. But now, we know this for certain, and he'll kill again, the season is not yet over. He's probably hiding under this new "Puppet Master" emblem in order to keep on killing. Soon everyone will forget about the Faller and be worried about the "Puppet Master". He can continue to kill in either name,"

"That's disheartening," Judy sighed.

"We really need to do a press conference," Rum said.

"And what are we going to say exactly?" Fuller glowered.

"Leave that to my Public Affairs Assistant," Rum smirked.

_**0000**_

Everyone was gathered in the wreck room of the school to watch the announcement the local police had on the new Serial Killer. Even though all they'd heard was that one body was found; the Press was convinced that this guy had killed before and would do so again. The McQuaids stood near the back of the crowd, but everyone was respectfully silent in order to watch the news.

The FBI man was not the one Tommy had run into in the locker; instead a pretty, brunette woman stood at the podium; "We know we have been remiss in answering all of your questions, however, we wanted to get our facts straight. The Faller and the_** new **_- " here she held up both hands and made quotation marks when she said the word, "are one and the same…"

The crowd gasped at the news.

"But," a reporter yelled out, "it's so different…"

"Indeed it is made to look that way. We think he's trying to hide his original MO with this new one but after extensive research the FBI specialists all agree that it can't be two different murderers. We can't catch this guy alone so if any of you or the public has information on the Faller you need to call the local police department. We also urge all families to keep a strict eye on your kids. Don't let them play outside alone. Don't let them walk to school alone. We're looking at this from every angle and will do our best to capture whoever is killing the children soon," and then she left the podium.

The kids all whistled and then went into excited mutterings. This was the most excitement they'd had besides their own little mellow dramas.

The McQuaids drew off to a corner to be alone.

"Wow," Doug muttered lowly.

"At least that's something," Tommy shook his head. He had called the Chapel from a pay phone early that morning and was told they were possibly looking at two Serial Killers. Now, if the woman on the tv had been truthful he was glad.

"Yeah," Doug nodded.

"I'm glad we're here and not there," Tommy took out a half-package of gum and stuck a piece in his mouth; he offered it to Doug who also took a piece.

"Interviewing families who've lost their kid like that are next to impossible. They always forget to give pertinent information or are too protective to let you go and see the kids room," Tommy ranted.

"Can you blame them?" Doug asked a little perturbed.

"Not really, but if my kid got kidnapped and killed like that I'd be doing everything to help the cops find the bastard who did it," Tommy pouted. Doug shook his head and then gently pulled Tommy into a chokehold; he go rid of the do-rag and then proceeded to ruffle up Tommy's hair.

Tommy laughed and yelled at his older brother; which brought on attention from the other kids. The younger one's then mobbed the two and begged to be taken out to play. Tommy and Doug had a soft spot for the younger kids and one might think that this weakness would be taken advantage of. However, everyone knew that if Doug McQuaid was protective of his younger brother, he was just as protective of the younger kids and would not only beat up the person who tried to terrorize them, but humiliate them as well.

Anyone with a thought of doing something to the younger kids always held back because of pride. And always tried to be nicer to the younger kids even when the McQuaids weren't in the room; words would get back to them and no one wanted their wrath.

Marsh grinned and patted a couple of the little boys on the head as they passed with the McQuaids through the wreck room doors where he'd been watching the news (and Tommy). Doug held back from openly glowering and Tommy got a significant glance from Marsh. The older boys didn't respond, rather wanting to keep his involvement with the other man as quiet as possible. Tommy thought that in a school this size there'd have been rumors. But for some reason the other kids outside of Evan, Howard, Zack and their crew knew nothing of the drugs being made in the basement. And as far as he and Doug could tell, the younger children were not being used as drug mules.

Thank God for little mercies.

Once they got out to the playground, the little kids went running to the swing set. Doug stopped Tommy by putting a huge hand on the younger boy's chest; "he ain't doing anything to ya, is he?" Doug asked, meaning Marsh.

"No," Tommy frowned and spat back, offended that Doug would think Tommy was getting molested and hadn't told him about it. Doug nodded. He backed off and Tommy tugged on his ragged jacket before sauntering off towards the children. By then his bad mood had disintegrated because there was nothing to actually be mad at Doug about. Older siblings always thought they had to protect the younger siblings even when they knew the younger siblings were old enough to handle things on their own.

Tommy offered Doug a small smile as thank you for being interested; Doug nodded and thing between them were not awkward as they pushed the younger kids on the swing set.

_**0000**_

Fuller and his team waited in the gloom of the warehouse that was a set up for one of Duke's meeting places. Blowfish stood in the nice, Italian, three piece suit chewing on the end of a cigar and trying not be too nervous about this, even if he were just meeting kids – they could be armed.

Not ten minutes later a kid banged his way inside, thinking he was being quiet. Everyone could here him; "ya Duke?" the kid asked.

"You have the PS?" Duke asked, trying to sound as if he were in charge.

"Yeah," the kid pulled out a big package out of his backpack. Duke took it and then opened it. He'd brought a drug testing kit with him and went through all the steps carefully. It was evidence; he couldn't just half ass it. It came up positive for an unknown substance.

He nodded and handed the money package over, as soon as the kid took it cops surrounded him. He was ordered to the floor, handcuffed and was being lead out while his Miranda Rights were told to him. Fuller came over to Blowfish who looked very relieved.

"I thought Hanson was crazy when he involved you in his little scheme, but it worked," Fuller said, impressed by the skill Blowfish had exhibited during the drug exchange.

"Yeah? Thanks boss man!" Blowfish grinned.

"Do you think you can do it again?" Fuller asked.

Blowfish wanted to say; "no" but nodded his head in the affirmative. He couldn't let the Chapel down.

_**0000**_

"Billy Moran," Fuller said. Ioke, Judy and he stood in the office and watched the little boy through the blinds. He sat at the conference table with a sandwich and soda before him. He looked scared out of hits mind.

"We made sure take down any photograph's of Doug and Tom and told everyone not to mention them at all around the kid," Ioke said.

"Good thinking," Fuller nodded his approval.

"Has he said anything?" Judy asked.

"Only that some kid, Howard, asked him to take the PS to the warehouse last night and to bring the money back," Fuller replied.

"The lab hasn't come back with their report on the PS yet," Ioke muttered.

"It might take a while," Fuller replied.

"So are we going to keep him here or turn him over to Juvie?" Judy asked.

"We'll keep him for a while, we don't want him to talk to anyone he shouldn't," Fuller sighed, "His case worker is coming this afternoon to do something about the charges. I'll probably drop them if he cooperates and gives the whole operation up," Fuller turned to his desk.

"I can't wait to close this one and get the extra help on the Faller/Puppet Master case," Judy sighed.

"I've been all over that neighborhood…" Ioke started and followed her out.

The door closed softly behind them, leaving Fuller to his own work. These two cases were not the only one's he was handling and soon enough someone knocked at the door and in came two more of his Jump Street undercover gang with an update on a gun smuggling case in a nearby high school.

Still, he couldn't help but worry about Tom and Doug.

_**0000**_

Tommy was not comfortable being without backup (read: Doug) as he followed Marsh down to the basement in the dead of night. This time, Evan, Howard and Zack were all absent.

"I wasn't able to show you much of the set up last time," Marsh said with a grin. He was giddy and excited about the whole operation. It was like seeing a kid in a candy store for the first time. Tommy grinned and tried to put on an air of excitement himself. He wanted Marsh to think that he was into this. He needed to gain more of Marsh's trust in order to bust him.

The lab was a nice set up; the instruments looked brand new out of the box and well taken care of. "Do you make the drugs?" Tommy asked, because if Marsh had kids doing it than Tommy didn't understand why everything was neat and tidy; most of the time when he found labs, things were dirty and no one cared. This, however, looked like a set up one would find in the hospital.

"Oh yes, I never let anyone touch anything," Marsh replied. "These things cost an arm and a leg, it took me a while to hide it within the expense reports," Marsh admitted.

Tommy raised an eyebrow; "fraud?"

"Well, not the schools expense reports. Those are looked at meticulously. I run several charity accounts, people donate and I send them thank you letters and try to make it look legit. But I use it for this," he waved his hand at the set up.

"Okay," Tommy nodded non-committed. "So why'd you bring me down here?"

"I can't make the amount of Pure Snow we've been talking about all by myself. I need someone to help me, I need someone I can trust…" he deadpanned. "Can I trust you?"

Tommy blinked; "you're crazy, you can't trust anyone in this business and you know it," he shrugged.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, when you sell drugs, you never know if you're supplier is a druggie himself. He may get the wonderful idea to pop a .22 into your head and steal your stuff. Or maybe Duke will do the job once he figures you ain't useful to him any more. He's done it before and I know he'll do it again," Tommy explained and wrung his hands a little. He had to act very scared of Blowfish in order to sell his earlier performance when this whole working together thing came up and subsequently agreed too.

"Not if we kill him first," Marsh replied. Tommy blinked.

"W-what?" he sounded panicked, for real. He couldn't let the two meet; he'd risk Blowfish getting his head shot off by Marsh who thought Blowfish had a huge drug trade going in the city when that was as far removed from the truth as possible. Tommy thought for sure Duke and Marsh would never meet. He'd have to tell the guys and get them to help cover Blowfish. Maybe he'd have to bust the man earlier than he'd planned.

"I dunno…" he gulped.

"Why are you so scared of a man?" Marsh rolled his eyes. He honestly did not understand why Duke was someone to be afraid of.

"I told you what he did for our family, right?" Tommy frowned, "I'm going against him. If anyone finds out…I'm another body floating face down in the Hudson,"

Marsh shook his head; Marsh treaded over to Tommy and put a large, comforting hand on the younger boy's shoulder. He squeezed gently. "I won't let that happen," he promised.

Tommy cringed but nodded. That was good enough for now.

_**0000**_

"K-k-kill me!?" Blowfish stuttered. His hand swiped through his hair as he thought about it. "Killing me wasn't in the job description!" he practically yelled. He, Judy and Ioke were clustered around Judy's desk. She and Ioke felt for him, honestly, they did. But, they faced that sort of danger every day.

"We aren't going to let you meet Marsh," Judy said and patted him gently on the arm. "Tommy wants Ioke or I to take your place for the meeting, as a right hand man," she explained, "or we'll get Marsh there in a ruse of being early so that he and Tommy can get a feel for the location, and then we'll arrest him,"

"So…he won't actually see me?" Blowfish asked.

"Not at all!" Ioke slapped Blowfish on the back. "You did a great job with all the other stuff, we'll take care of it from here on out!"

"Thanks, you guys are real friends," and with that, Blowfish cheered up and went to fix the water heater. Again.

"Boy, if he was thinking about going into the Force this probably stopped him for sure," Ioke chuckled.

"That's too bad, it's nice to have a guy who fits in so well as the Mafia type," Judy giggled.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

_**St. Joseph's School for boys**_

_**Rating – R**_

_**Pairings – non, totally gen (any hints don't count)**_

_**Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own.**_

_**Warnings – on/off screen murder, off screen molestation, on screen violence, drug dealing…and sexual advances of a certain nature. So this is not for children. Also, nothing sexual is going to happen in this story.**_

_**Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out.**_

_**A/N**_ –_I want to apologize about how long this is taking me. I meant to have this finished months ago. However, life got in the way. I am going to start a CNA course next week and if this is still going on then – I wouldn't be able to update very much. I will do my best to finish it this in the next few days. With that in mind, if it read hurriedly than I am sorry for that as well. I usually try to keep the integrity of the work even if it's fast to an ending. Secondly. This was supposed to be the first in a series of stories that led to Tom and Doug leaving the Jump Street program to become FDA Agents. It was supposed to lead up to the movie where, instead of dying, they'd live through it and retire after that. Because I hate that those character's died. I understand why they were killed off, at the same time, Tom and Doug are my favorite characters. I am not sure if I will write a sequel to this. I may in the future if I ever get back into the game more than just "I have this random idea I need to write" phase I seem to be in now. Anyway, I do hope everyone has enjoyed this story and thank you for coming along with me on this journey._

_**0000**_

_**BZZZ!-BZZZ!-BZZZZ!**_

The alarm clock shouted at the bed occupant precisely at seven in the morning. The woman groaned and turned over. She slapped at the alarm clock but only succeeded at knocking it to the floor with a loud bang that didn't drown out the even louder buzzing. She cursed herself for not setting it to a radio news program which wouldn't jolt her out of sleep.

Kate Bishop decidedly did not like Tuesday's. On the whole, it meant dealing with rude costumers and trying to fix problems as best she could without calling a manager. Being a phone operator for the biggest baby crib manufacturing company was a hassle. She had thought upon getting the job it'd be easy, and for the first month or so it had been everything she hoped for. Things came up, however, and she'd learned real fast that baby cribs were a huge commodity in America.

Kate sat up and stretched. The window of the master suite was open and the neighborhood was quiet. The children had all ready been seen off to school since the clock read eight-thirty. At least she only had a half day today. She could take her time getting ready before she had to show up at work at two in the afternoon.

She didn't bother to pull her robe on as she got out of bed; her own two boys had left for school earlier that morning. They were both in high school and used to getting their own breakfast and making their own lunches before rushing off to see the bus. There was a tri-athalon for Jordan and a math test for Isaac. She looked forward to seeing the awards, as all Mothers are – Kate is no different hoping that her boys will beat all the other students. She shook her head, even if her boys didn't win, they would always be winners to her.

The doorbell rang as soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs. She had to pass the front door to even get to the kitchen. She wasn't dressed for visitors and rolled her eyes. It'd be rude not to answer the door. She desperately wanted to ignore the doorbell; however, she sighed and went to the door where she peeked out of the peep whole. Outside her brother, Wallace, stood. He looked worried. She frowned. Ever since their fight three months ago they hadn't talked to each other. She had caught him writing checks off of their parent's accounts. And seeing as how both were in a Senior Home and she was privy to their financial situations he knew something wrong was happening. She just wasn't prepared to find out her own brother was stealing thousands of dollars from their own parents.

Kate bit her lip; she still wasn't happy with him. Wallace had no way to pay them back, and she told him to never contact her or their parents again or she'd press charges. She'd even told the staff at the senior home never to admit him. And now here he was on her front door step.

"Crazy motherfucker," she muttered to herself as she undid the deadbolt on the door. She put on her best glare as they came face to face.

"What do you want?" it was her Mommy-voice. The one that said if she didn't get a straight and truthful answer, your life was over.

"Kate, I just wanted to…" Wallace gulped, "apologize and give you some money…"

That surprise Kate enough that her whole demeanor changed from angry to slightly hopeful. "You know," she said as she stood back enough to let Wallace in, not caring her night shift was rather not modest, "if you'd just talked to me I'd have helped you out."

Wallace ran fingers through greasy, dark brown hair; "yeah, I know."

"So why take from Mom and Dad?" Kate asked.

A hand sneaked behind his back; Kate was looking him dead in the eye and he hoped she didn't see. He gripped the handle of a large hunting knife he'd hidden at the small of his back before he'd approached the house. Instead of answering his question, he lunged at her instead.

_**0000**_

_Am I going to die? _Kate wondered. Wallace hadn't stuck around after he'd slashed her throat. She'd fallen to the floor, both hands trying to stop the bleeding. She felt her life slipping through her fingers and wished she had never let her brother into the house on such a stupid excuse.

He was gone though, once he'd seen her blood he had taken off. But why not wait and make sure she was dead? Maybe someone saw him? Maybe he had to go and make an alibi. Of course they'd ask him once her body was found.

She turned and in a clean space on her white, tile floor she wrote; W-A-L-L-A-C-E.

And then wrote: L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-B-O-Y-S.

Kate Bishop expired on her kitchen floor at nine o'clock that Tuesday morning.

_**0000**_

It was a mistake to just leave her there; Wallace knew.

"How come I can kill kids and string them up from trees but I can't do that to my own sister?" he asked himself.

_Maybe because she's your sister and you just wanted it done? _A voice inside him asked. He gripped the steering wheel hard, it was slippery due to the blood that got them as he cut Kate's throat. He began to shake right then. He'd never felt like this after a kill. He felt like killing more. He needed to kill…he needed to go through the ritual. He couldn't do that with Kate – sibling incest was a bit like rape; something that society frowned down upon. Which was silly but whatever.

He began to drive around; he needed a victim and fast so to calm himself.

_**0000**_

"This is a weird thing to call us about," Judy said as he looked at the Kate Bishop homicide report. A neighbor had seen the front door of the Bishop residence left open and had poked her head in to see if anything was wrong. She discovered her very good friend dead.

"She wrote a note to her family because she knew she'd never see her them again," Rum noted as he looked at the picture of the woman's last words written clearly in blood. Some of the streaks were faint but the outline was there.

"That's sad," Ioke muttered.

"Why are we looking into this, anyway?" Judy asked.

"Serial Killers hide in normalcy; they know what they do is wrong," Rum replied.

"We're looking for a sociopath then," Judy stated. They all nodded.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them.

"Why don't we go see his place?" Rum asked, "after all, we have to suspect everyone."

"What if it's an isolated murder?" Ioke asked, "what if he was a spurned suitor because she wasn't interested in dating or whatever?"

"That's a good question, okay, you research everything about her while we try to put connect the Faller to this murder," Fuller pointed a finger at Ioke while he grabbed his jacket. Judy rushed off to get hers and Rum pulled out his shades. He shined the lenses with his silver/blue tie and felt the thrill flow through his veins. He couldn't help but revel in the chase.

_**0000**_

The scene had not been cleaned up when the three arrived and a patrol officer was guarding the door. He admitted them only once they'd show their badges and didn't bother to follow them inside. They hurried into blue coveralls and covered their hair and feet in the blue cloth as well so as not to contaminate the scene.

The body was not there when they got to the kitchen, but they had the crime scene photos with them to help with that. Judy hadn't ever worked Homicide, it was odd being on the scene of one – surreal, almost – she marveled at the floor where the note had been written.

"Wallace…" she said slowly, "that's not the names of one of her kids right?" she asked.

Rum shot her a glance while he opened the folder; "Jordan and Isaac…Bishop…nope, she only has two kids," Rum replied.

"That name has to mean something," Judy muttered.

"Check the list of family members," Fuller told Rum who quickly flipped through.

"Wait, her brother's name is Wallace," Rum said, "he was in a mental institution and then when he got out Mrs. Bishop got him a place to live and a job. But he held the job for a month and lost the loft she rented him a week after he lost his job," Rum reported the back ground on the report. It was minimal.

"I'll call Ioke and see if he's found anything on Mr. Wallace," Judy said and stepped over to the kitchen phone.

_**0000**_

Blood was everywhere; his hands never shook this hard when he killed before. What was so different about Katie? Wallace wasn't sure why things had changed for him so suddenly. He was always certain when he killed. This time though, it was an accident. He didn't mean to kill Katie. He didn't mean to make his nephew's motherless. She just wouldn't listen to him. That bitch. If she just gave him what he wanted Wallace knew he would never have stabbed her. Now the only person in the world who loved and cared for him was dead…at his hands.

How did it come to this?

Wallace took a deep breath as he took the turn into the park. He'd go visit the little one's. Maybe some time with them will help him think of what to do next. He smeared blood all around the wheel of the car as he took a path for park vehicles. The woods at the back end of the park kiddy-cornered a suburban neighborhood and a field that swiftly turned into farmland. The field was vast and barren, not a good place at all to hide away his little one's from the world. He parked within a hole in the trees where his car – a deep brown – would be hidden somewhat by the oak brush. He took the short walk to the site where he'd left his little one's to play. He gasped in shock, stood stock-still. There were holes where the children had lain in their rest. Yellow police tape stuck to the trees. No one was around but his little one's are gone.

_**0000**_

The Medical Examiner walked out of the examination room while pulling off the blue rubber gloves; she pulled down her mask and gave them a small smile. "This just keeps getting better and better for you doesn't it?" she asked. She went to the sink to wash her hands.

"Did you find anything useful?" Rum asked. Kate Bishop's examination had been put at the top of the FBI's ME's list. They were in the basement of the local FBI Office. It was brightly lit despite that the hallway beyond was mostly glum with light bulbs flickering in need of being changed out.

"I found a few hairs but that could be from the cat or dog if they have any animals. Also. The knife wound is consisted with a sharp hunting knife. The guys in the lab will have to do some other testing. She shrugged.

Rum sighed; "This is going no where.

"Don't worry, because I know for a fact that whoever killed Mrs. Bishop killed those children," she grinned, "Andy and I are dating. He told me this morning he matched the dirt found near Mrs. Bishop's body matched the grave dirt of the children ya'll dug up."

Rum brightened; "Thanks Mel!" and then he left as hurriedly as he could without skipping.

Mellissa shook her head. It was weirdly easy how she and the guys in the lab could make Rum so happy. Now all he had to do was bag the killer and they could go get a beer.

_**0000**_

It took a few days for Tom and Doug to find the perfect location for their sting operation; it was an old, abandoned house on the other side of the city, well away from the Church and their homes so no one would recognize them. After three weeks of sneaking out of the school they were both pro's at it and no one snitched on them either; The little kids were very attached and Tom had called CPS to try and get them better homes after they left. It still felt as if he and Doug were abandoning them.

"This house will do the trick," Doug said as he came out of the kitchen. Black mold grew along the corners of the room and there were a pile of old plant container in a corner along with a round duct line leading from several rooms (that intersected with the main line) which then was connected to the fireplace. In its better years the room was once a grey-purple with beige carpet. The basement had been used sometime in the past for an occult group who'd left behind their alter with some Satanic looking stuff that neither Tom nor Doug wanted to look at for too long; or touch. Better to be safe than sorry and leave stuff like that alone.

"Grow house," Tom muttered.

"No one would think of looking here after the cops raided the place," Doug replied.

"And the good places to hide?" Tom asked. Doug was the expert at hide-n-seek especially when it came to jobs like this. It was an open space concept with the living room and dining room bleeding into each other with two walls blocking off the kitchen before stairs led to the basement/family room.

"The kitchen is clear. We can hide there and then all you have to do is get Marsh to the dining room, as far away from the front door as possible." Doug explained.

"It's a good thing the back door is in the garage," Tom muttered.

"Now all we have to do is get some evidence," Doug sighed.

"Let's make a stop off at the Church and get the compact camera," Tom motioned at Doug to follow him out to the drive. The street was mostly clear but there were some gang activity in the area. "We'll have to call a HUGE raid," Tom sighed.

"No problem," Doug slapped Tom on the back, "I've got a couple fella's in narcotics that could help us out," he grinned. Tom nodded. Thank god this case was almost over. And after this, he could finally get out.

_**0000**_

_**TBC**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**St. Joseph's School for boys**_

_**Rating – R**_

_**Pairings – non, totally gen (any hints don't count)**_

_**Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own.**_

_**Warnings – on/off screen murder, off screen molestation, on screen violence, drug dealing…and sexual advances of a certain nature. So this is not for children. Also, nothing sexual is going to happen in this story.**_

_**Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out**__**.**_

_**A/N – Well, my plans for finishing this story may be pushed way into the future. I just want to thank everyone for hanging around even though my updating is sporadic at best. I have decided to slow this down a little I don't want to ruin the integrity of the story. So…yeah. I am sorry this is so god damned short. My CNA course starts tomorrow and I need to go to bed but I wanted to get something up tonight. I'll try for a longer chapter next time. This is just set up. **_

_**0000**_

Judy paged through the old diary that Tom had mailed her from the school. The entries covered a long range of time but after the first few pages the Faller neglected putting dates on the pages. He shouldn't have done that in the first place because without the dates it'd be harder to ID any missing people if the time frame is more than vague. So far they'd come up with a few missing children in the area during the years 1976 up through 1986. On a note pad at her elbow she had a list of words she thought were important, she wrote them down as often as they appeared. So far the word "Killed" had been written a hundred times and she was only on page fifty of the diary.

"This guy is seriously crazy, dude," Judy muttered to Ioke who came over to her desk with a cup of coffee. She took it gratefully and put the diary down for a coffee break.

"How crazy?" Ioke asked. He perched on the edge of her desk and looked at her list.

"He kidnapped a girl he calls Mira and killed her six month old puppy in front of her before raping and killing her. How evil is that?" Judy tried to sound sarcastic but Ioke suspected that she'd wept in the ladies bathroom for a half hour after she read that entry; which was why she was away from her desk for so long.

"That's horrible," Ioke put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed; trying to give her the support she needed. Judy swiped at her eyes, trying to not look as if she were about to start sobbing again but failing miserably.

"Maybe I should read it," Ioke suggested.

"It's fine, this is why I don't work Homicide," Judy smiled up at him. Ioke nodded. This is exactly why he too didn't work Homicide.

_**0000**_

Tommy McQuade yawned. The key to these sorts of sting operations is patience. He couldn't push Marsh too far to fast or he'd get suspicious and then Marsh would ask questions and things could go down hill and end badly for everyone. Marsh was all ready vying for Blowfish's fake mob position. Tom wasn't willing to put his friend at risk. He shouldn't have called Blowfish in at all. Now, he had to keep Marsh as far away from Blowfish as possible.

The office door opened and Marsh stood in the opening. Today his suit was of far better quality than usual. It was tan; he wore a white button down without any tie. He motioned Tom to enter. His hair was slicked back and he wore diamond cuff links. This was not the outfit of a School Principal.

Tommy bit his cheek; he hoped it'd look like a nervous tick instead of him trying not to smirk. Marsh was getting ready to make a play, and he was so confident that he felt an upgrade in clothing was needed. Tom walked past him, trying not to brush up too close, Marsh didn't give any room and Tom couldn't help but bump a little bit into him. He bowed his head a bit and muttered "sorry" before taking his seat before the desk.

"How are you today, Tommy?" Marsh asked. His voice was too cheerful and his smile too big and toothy. Tommy felt as if he were cornered by the big bag wolf.

"Fine, why?" Tommy growled, trying to sound big and bad when he was trying to get Marsh to think he was blustering.

"You know what, I found out something very, very interesting," Marsh said. He walked over to his file cabinet and pulled out a file. And then he went to the desk and sat down on the edge in front of Tommy. He fingered the file and Tommy knew that this next bit was going to be really tricky.

"What…?"

"Shut up," Marsh snapped. He opened the file. "I hired someone to follow you. You're a Police Officer." Marsh thumbed through black and white photo's the showed Tom and Doug going into the Chapel and setting up their sting operation.

Tom groaned. "How could I have missed that?" he muttered out loud.

"Oh this guy I hired is good, ex spy. You wouldn't see him unless you were trained to see him. Anyway, and I bet now you're asking yourself what I'm going to do next, right?" Marsh lent back a little. Tom looked up at him.

It was a split second move. If Tom moved fast he could have dodged the paperweight to his temple. That is, if Marsh didn't have the upper hand. Tom didn't stand a chance; he saw the rock a second too late. It bashed him in the head and he fell to the floor out cold.

_**0000**_

Doug couldn't find Tom anywhere when he got back to the school from their sting house. He'd spent the whole morning setting it up with the guys at the chapel so they could catch Marsh and get the PS off the streets.

His next move was to find Tom and let him in on the plan. But no one had seen him after he'd entered Marsh's office after English class. And if people saw him go in, but not out, that meant that Marsh had his own secret passage and Tom's cover was essentially blown.

Doug made his escape into the woods behind the school as fast as possible. It was almost too easy but he wasn't going to wait to report back to Fuller and try to come up with some plan to rescue Tom.

**0000**

Fuller could curse, he could rage, he could be pissed that this operation had gone south and one of his best guys is missing. He didn't though. He sat behind his desk and glared at the building layout for the school; he tried to suss out any hiding places Marsh could use to stash Tom.

"Do you think he's okay?" Judy asked. Though she knew that Tom was most likely dead. Fuller wasn't going to say things like that, however, it always brought down team moral and he needed them to be pissed enough to get Marsh and rescue Tom, not grieving for a team member they assume is dead.

"He'll be fine," Fuller replied. "Now, I've called in all our resources. At least the Mayor likes this program enough to let me borrow some people to storm the school and get the evidence we need to put Marsh away for a good long time. Hopefully we'll find Tom as well."

Ioke, Judy and Doug glanced from him to the blue prints and then to each other. They all nodded and one by one they left the office. Fuller expected to be left alone after words, but the FBI Agent slipped in instead. He shut the door and sashayed towards the desk.

"Let me help ya," Rum said. He lent over to take a look at the blue print spread out on the desk. "The basement looks good."

"I just want my man back safe," Fuller replied.

"I can do that. It's been a while since I've led a drug bust raid, it'd be fun," Rum grinned, "and maybe it'd get me in good the DEA,"

Fuller sighed. He didn't really want to trust Rum but he had no choice. "Okay, just bring my guy back safe and sound."

Rum nodded; "of course."

_**0000**_

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

_**St. Joseph's School for boys**_

_**Rating – PG13/R**_

_**Pairings – None, not even canon, this is all friendship. **_

_**Disclaimer – I own the copy write and the OC's of this fic, known characters' I don't own. I am also not making any money off this fan fic.**_

_**Warnings – off screen murder, off screen molestation, violence, drug dealing…and sexual advances of a certain nature. So this is not for children. Also, nothing sexual is going to happen in this fic. I'm sorry, but I've known that from the beginning.**_

_**Summary - The McQuaid brothers are back; this time they're stuck in a home for run away boys do to the abusive situation at home. Meanwhile, they investigate the mystery of several boys at the home going missing. The rest of the gang helps out.**_

_**A/N – Okay. So with the new Sopa law….I'm not entirely sure what I'll do with this story. I don't want it to disappear from the internet. I want people to be able to enjoy the story. To me, I think this is a blatant violation of our rights of free speech and press. Fan fic is free for a reason. And I think a lot of fandoms will die out if this because illegal. Will that stop me? No. I am sure we'll be able to find a way around the law. I'm sorry this is so long and nothing about me. Anyway, my CNA class has taken a lot out of me; I'll do my best to update during the long Labor Day weekend. **_

_**Also, I am playing around with a deleted scene (for loss of a better word) a sex scene, unfortunately it'd be really – horribly – none consensual and I am TOTALLY not sure if I aught to write it. Needless to say if I do write it I'll post a link to it on my bio.**_

_**a/n 2 - I am sorry this has taken me so long. I meant to get a lot done on this over the labor day weekend; I haven't had a lot of time to write thanks to my CNA class - and so I tried to make this longer to make up for it. I hope everyone likes it. Thank you all. **_**_  
_**

_**0000**_

"When I find that bastard I am gonna fuck him up," Doug slapped the open palm of his head on his desk; sending files flying onto the floor and things rattling. No one near him paid him any attention. Doug raged like this since Tom Hanson disappeared after a meeting with Marsh, the Dean of the St. Joseph's School for Boys. With their cover practically blown Doug had retreated to the Chapel to try and find his partner from that side of the fence.

Judy and Ioke glanced at each other before they stood and gathered at Doug's desk to try and cheer him up. This had happened a few times in their careers. One of them would inevitably get kidnapped or something and Doug always took it the hardest, unless he was the one being kidnapped in the first place – in that case Tom always felt like a heel for even allowing it.

"He's going to be all right," Judy tried, again. "Tom has been kidnapped before. Maybe if Marsh thinks he's useful he won't kill Tom right away, you know how it goes," she poked Doug in the shoulder.

"I can't find Marsh, we got his self-storage and his home and nothing about Tom turned up. I mean, those were long shots. If I were Marsh I'd never take Tom to either of those places because those are the most known places and we'd look there first," Doug sighed and scrubbed his hands across his face.

"Rum is still looking, and he's got a lot more resources than we do. We have to trust that he'll find Tom," Ioke was the only one of them that said what they were all thinking. They didn't really like Rum from the beginning. Doug had only met him once or twice since the investigation into Tom disappearing had started five days prior. But he seemed good enough and if he could get them any hint of where Tom was than he'd put up with the mostly silent FBI Agent.

"I know, but it's been five days. What if Tom is all ready dead?" Doug demanded.

"If he were dead Marsh would let us know it," Judy shrugged. "We haven't found a body so Tom is still alive and you need to remember that, now, let's see if we can't dig something up on Marsh, let's go to his contacts…" Judy picked up a file from the floor. In it were all the names and numbers of people Marsh kept in his little black book. This guy was a complete amateur; he even had the names of several prominent Mob bosses that worked in the NYC area.

"They won't be very happy with Marsh when they find out we know who they are and what they're doing, with just this we can get them on a lot of charges," and with that she was off to get warrants.

_**0000**_

The worst thing that one could do upon waking up in enemy territory is letting one's captor's know you are awake. Well, all right, that's probably not the worst thing. Still, better safe than sorry. Tom woke to the sound of loud music. It bumped off the walls and ricocheted off metal pipes. He wouldn't be able to know if anyone was with him unless he opened his eyes. He didn't feel any fabric tied across his eyes and so it was a safe bet that he wasn't blindfolded. He took a deep, slow breath and blinked his eyes open.

He was in a small room. He lay upon an army cot that was probably gotten from an Army Surplus store. His jacket and boots were missing and somehow he figured the loud music was from a club above him because the music didn't rattle in the room but was rather muffled by concrete walls.

Tom sighed. He hated being kidnapped. It meant horrible things were going to happen to him and he probably wouldn't survive it. He took a deep breath and sat up. Thankfully a single light kept the darkness away but he wouldn't put it past Marsh to take it away to drive him crazy.

Now, all he had to do was figure out a way to find a way out. With that he got to his feet and decided to explore the small room for any sort of leverage he could find.

_**0000**_

"You should have killed the cop bastard," Howard lit the end of a cigarette; he and Zack and had dragged the undercover cop into the "holding cell" for Marsh but weren't happy about keeping the cop alive. To them, he was a problem better off dead and dumped into the river. Marsh, however, had other plans.

"If I wanted your opinion on how to run my company," Marsh said through gritted teeth, "I'd have asked for it."

Zack huffed. Howard blew out smoke. Both teens knew that they couldn't make a play against Marsh right now. They were smart enough to know that they'd be creamed.

"All right, where is Ethan?" Marsh asked. Over the past week he'd set up a supply line for the PS. It was selling like hot cakes and it took everything he and his small crew could do just to make more to keep up with the demand.

"His crew just got back from the East side," Howard replied and chomped down on the cigarette. Ethan was another thing he and Marsh didn't see eye to eye on and another subject better not touched unless he wanted to mop the floors and re-work his way up the food chain. Despite his hate for Ethan, he wasn't stupid.

"And why is Ethan late?" Marsh asked. He always wanted a report from his Head Managers after they had sold their morning supply. It was then that Ethan knocked and stumbled his way into the office.

"What took you so long, boy?" Marsh glared.

"Cops almost got us, but we were able to sell our supply and take off with the money," Ethan replied, out of breath, he brought out several rolls of bills from his pockets and put the lot on the table. "Almost three thousand there," he added with a smile.

Marsh nodded. He took two rolls of money from the table, two from each pile the three boys had put before them and threw six rolls at the boys. They caught it and blinked at Marsh. "Pay your crews," Marsh said and waved his hand. That was their sign to get lost.

_**0000**_

The metal door squealed open; Tom watched from the cot. He assumed a position of boredom. Marsh stood in the doorway. Shackles hanging from his hands and a couple of goons with guns trained on Tom.

"Dinner?" he smirked. Tom gave him a raised eyebrow.

"Okay," and then agreed.

_**0000**_

Tom liked to go out on dates; he liked a good and sound relationship. A woman who kept a job, was independent and didn't care about his hours at the Chapel. It's nice to pay the bill and open doors for her and generally being a gentleman. He didn't have any experience being wined and dined. It was awkward. A little more so because a card table had been set up as if it were located in a five star restaurant with a small cart with covered food (or so Tom assumed because it was the most logical thing in the world) Marsh waltzed into the utility room (it was set up as a small apartment a screen baring the water heater and furnace from view) as if he owned it, and he probably did.

"It isn't home sweet home," Marsh grinned as he popped open a bottle of wine and started pouring. "but pretty soon I'll be rolling in the dough."

"And what will you do then?" Tom asked, because he had nothing better to do. Two goons marched Tom to a chair on one side of the table. They undid the handcuffs and brought his hands forward. One wrist was cuffed to the chair that had arms on it and was made out of hard wood with some good craftsmanship. Tom knew that he would not be able to break the arm to get free. He was in this for the long haul.

"A high rise would be nice, maybe a vacation house in Miami," Marsh laughed. He set a cup of wine on front of Tom; with his free hand he took it and sniffed it. Marsh watched but didn't say anything as Tom sipped from the cup. Because shit, nothing had worked well this entire investigation and now Marsh was "dating" him for some reason Tom didn't even want to think about.

"I love a good glass of Nebbiolo; the plum is what makes it beautiful, I haven't had a glass of this in years. Please, enjoy," he swept a hand at Tom's glass, which he hadn't touched since the first sip several seconds before. Tom clucked his tongue but sipped at it anyway.

"I'm not much of a wine drinker," Tom muttered. He set the glass down and shrugged; "it's good though."

And somehow he felt as if he should be more pissed off at Marsh for kidnapping him. Marsh hadn't sat down; he stood behind his own chair. He took another sip of the wine before setting it down before his place setting and then moved over to the buffet table. He picked up a plate and then began uncovering the hot food.

"I know you think my operations is small time and I only hire kids. I am giving them a future. If they're smart about it that is; I have adults to do the harder work for me." Marsh winked. He put a good serving of each food on the place. Steamed broccoli, steak and mashed potatoes was carefully placed on the table and he set it in front of Tom.

Tom decided to take the risk and eat because he hadn't eaten a decent meal in ages and he would need all the strength he can get to find a way out of this situation.

Marsh made his own plate and then sat down at the table. For a long moment they both ate in silence. The clicking of utensils against top grade china plates filled the space where talking would have taken it up instead. Tom knew he needed more information. Something he could use.

"So, why kidnap me?" obvious question is obvious. It seemed like the right way to open up the conversation.

"I am in need of a friend," Marsh grinned over the top of his wine glass. Tom hid a smirk. Maybe he could work with this.

"And how do you plan on going about that?" he asked.

"How would you like to make more money in a week than you do in a year?" Marsh asked.

Tom blinked; "sounds like a plan."


End file.
